World Your Rock Tonight
by Duppy Conqueror
Summary: Post ep. for 3.10. The line, "I'm just a little home. Can you take me drunk?" needs a follow up. T for now, but M in later chapters. Happy Holidays! R/R
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own nothing related to _The Mentalist_. Lyrics are from the Radiohead song, "House of Cards".

A/N: I decided to do this after watching "Jolly Red Elf". A line like, "I'm just a little home…can you take me drunk?" requires, nay, deserves a follow up.

Merry Christmas everyone! This is especially dedicated to Yana for her encouragement! This was supposed to be a one off…but now it's a multi-part gift.

World Your Rock Tonight

Chapter: 1

_I don't want to be your friend__  
__I just want to be your lover__  
__No matter how it ends__  
__No matter how it starts…_

_-Radiohead_

* * *

_Sometimes you have to laugh, or you might start crying…_

Special Agent Teresa Lisbon was ruminating on the universal truth of the above phrase while trying to maneuver her consultant, Patrick Jane out of Dr. Wilder's office and away from the crime scene so forensics could do their job. Jane's plan to reveal the phony doctor's nurse, Layla, as the killer had worked, but it had also gotten him rip, roaring drunk in the process. Not mention his near death brush with a needle full of ethanol.

Once the dust had settled and the team had rescued Jane from alcohol poisoning Lisbon had given him one long look, mostly to reassure herself that he was whole and puncture free, but she'd realized something else was amiss very quickly. She'd inquired after his well-being, and continued to stare at him hard. Jane, of course, had tried to deny the obvious state he was in. A man who had as much control over his body and biorhythms as Patrick Jane didn't get drunk, or at least not sloppy drunk. He'd waved off her concern with blurry eyes and a mumbled, "I'm fine. I'm jush a lil' home. Can you take me drunk?"

Lisbon fought the urge to laugh out loud at his mix up, and offered him a hand out of the chair he'd been restrained in. Despite protests that he was fine, Jane's equilibrium was definitely not okay, and he quickly went from being assisted by Lisbon into the standing position, to leaning on her for support. Unfortunately, for all her strength training and macho tendencies Lisbon was unable to support a drunken Jane completely unassisted. Once Jane had leveraged his body from the chair, he and Lisbon began a slap-stick like descent towards the floor, pausing only long enough to take a tray of medical instruments down with them.

Luckily for both Lisbon and her consultant Special Agents Cho and Rigsby were on hand to catch them. Unluckily, they had to wait until Cho and Rigsby could stop laughing and catch their breath before they could be rescued.

Cho was the first to recover. "Whoa, whoa, whoa," he said, while trying to untangle the heap of limbs that had become his boss and colleague. "Alright Jane, give me your left hand, no, the other left, that's it. Okay now let go of Lisbon. Just for a second Jane, come on."

Lisbon watched from the floor as Cho pulled Jane off of her and handed him to Rigsby for safe keeping. Cho returned to her with outstretched hands, but Lisbon shook her head at him and stood up on her own. It was bad enough she'd been unable to support Jane herself, she didn't want help doing something as simple as standing. Things were getting pretty bad if Jane could take her down, and she made a mental note to take an extra kick box class in the coming week and up her free weights by at least another five or ten pounds.

Jane meanwhile was trying to convince Rigsby that the younger agents' help was completely unnecessary.

"S'okay Wayne. Imma good. Jush lemme get my bearings."

Rigsby rolled his eyes and continued to wrestle with Jane. "Right, you're good. You just crashed into a tray of sharp, pointy things, and then fell on top of Lisbon. I-

"Wha?" Jane's question cut Rigsby off, and he nearly knocked the agent over in his haste to turn around and ensure there were no sharp, pointy things lodged in his boss. "Lishbon, you okay?"

Rigsby thought fast and grabbed Jane under the armpits and pulled the consultant's back against his chest. Jane's legs had taken on the consistency of Jello due in equal parts to alcohol and alarm. Rigsby was forced to try and steady Jane on some rather unresponsive feet. It was like trying to get a recalcitrant toddler to stand up straight during a tantrum.

"It's all good buddy," Rigsby said and tried to point at Lisbon before he remembered both of his arms were otherwise engaged. "See? Boss lady is fine." He tossed a look at Lisbon. "You are fine right?"

"Yes Rigsby I'm fine. Jane I'm fine. Watch," Lisbon spun slowly around in a circle to prove there were no sharp instruments stuck into her back and no left over injuries from the fall.

She walked towards Jane and Rigsby. "Rigsby you and Cho stay here and assist with the forensic investigation. I'm going to take Jane home, or as he refers to it, drunk." She smirked a little at her own joke and moved into her "knocking down a door stance" while cracking her neck a few times. "Alright give him here. I'm ready."

"I don't know boss," Rigsby said warily and moved a few steps back, dragging Jane with him. "You went down pretty hard the last time. Maybe I oughta get him into a squad car."

Lisbon's eyes flashed with anger at the words, "went down pretty hard", and she toughened her stance.

"Nothing doing Rigsby," she growled. "Now hand Jane over nice and slow. I got this."

"You know, I'hm not a baby. Can walk myshelf…jush need to get my bearings ish all," Jane interjected. He'd been dozing against Rigsby's chest, but had come to in the midst of Lisbon's angry demands for his person. Under different circumstances he would have been suitably impressed and turned on by her insistence, but right now he was just insulted that his teammates thought a few shots of whiskey could so thoroughly undo him.

"Pleash stop treating me like an invalid. I jush fooled a woman into believing I wush drunk, that my blood…blood…blood," he groped for the next word, but didn't find it. "My blood thingy was low and that I lost con-con-con-blacked out."

Cho crossed his arms and very, nearly smiled. It looked more like a grimace, but it was pretty close to a smile. "And the award for least sober sentence uttered tonight goes to Jane".

"Nonsensh," Jane muttered. "I'm not drunk. Jush give me a minute. Everyone back up and give me a minute." He felt himself beginning to slide towards the floor as Rigsby complied with his demand. "S'alright everybody but Rigsby back up."

Rigsby rushed to steady Jane once more and the consultant began taking deep breaths. He screwed his eyes shut and continued to breathe in through his nose and out through his mouth. He was drunk, but he was still a well-trained con artist. Jane slowly and methodically tried to employ every mind over matter gimmick he knew in order to regain control over his faculties. Nothing except time would sober him up for real, but he could at least ensure he walked out of this room on his own two feet, albeit with Lisbon's help. After several moments spent quietly breathing and centering his mind Jane opened his eyes and beckoned Lisbon to him.

"Okay, I'm good. Jush, come here," he said to Lisbon and allowed her to throw his right arm over her shoulder. Her left hand came out to steady his back, and her right hand gripped his tightly. She wriggled about in his grasp, trying to distribute their weight evenly. Then she turned concerned, green eyes up at him.

"Ready?"

He nodded his agreement. "Ready."

They took several tentative steps towards the door and Lisbon was pleased to find Jane could indeed walk much steadier than before his little mental exercise.

"See, toldja I was fine," he said, as if reading her thoughts. "You guysh…so silly…I don' get drunk. Not real drunk. Peashants all of you."

"Says the man who just crashed around a doctor's office like all three of the Stooges," Lisbon quipped.

"He's not ah real doctor," Jane argued. "Alright, I wush pretty drunk a few minutes ago, but I'm mush better now."

Lisbon had to agree that he was much more elegant on his feet now, but his speech was definitely still impaired. She could live with that. Jane talked too much anyway, and his mouth wasn't responsible for his mobility so she didn't care if he had trouble operating it for a bit.

"You're right Jane," she said overly brightly. If she kept him happy he'd be more cooperative, and thus easier to navigate out of the building and into the SUV. "You really pulled yourself together just now."

"Was no big deal," he snorted derisively. "Imma not that drunk anyway."

"Sure you aren't." Rigsby huffed under his breath.

Cho simply raised an eyebrow at Jane and Lisbon's retreating forms. They had nearly made it out of the door when Jane paused and pulled his hand out of Lisbon's grasp. The three agents braced themselves for a get away, but Jane didn't make a break for it. Instead, he began running his hand through Lisbon's hair. Cho and Rigsby watched in horrified silence as Jane's face took on a look, they as fellow men, knew all too well. It was the face they'd seen countless male friends make when drunk and enamored with some random tail at a bar.

"Oh no," Rigsby said quietly while staring at the back of Jane's head. "Don't speak, don't speak, whatever you're thinking, don't say it."

"Lishbon, your hair looksh really nice today."

Cho pinched the bridge of his nose. "Too late."

Lisbon simply grabbed Jane's hand back and continued man-handling him out the door. "Alright, time to get you home. If you're complimenting me you're clearly drunk and need to lie down."

"Am not!" Jane cried, "I compliment you…shometimes. I'm allowed to compliment you without being drunk. Jush watch me," he leaned over to nuzzle her ear. "You're looking really hot today Lishbon, really hot."

Jane caught Lisbon so off guard with his drunken ramblings that she forgot to adequately support him, and they slammed into the door jam.

"Jane that is it!" she shook him just a little so he'd understand the seriousness of the situation. "Not another word out of you. March to the jeep right now!"

Lisbon gripped his hand again and started dragging him out of the building. Jane's laughter sounded down the hallway. He clearly enjoyed being able to get under her skin whether he was sober or not.

Cho and Rigsby lasted until Lisbon was out of sight. Then they both doubled over in hysterics.

"We've got…thirty seconds…that's it. Gotta…collect the...evidence," Cho wheezed through his laughter and peered at his digital watch.

Thirty seconds later he raised a hand and called time. His face was once again an impassive mask.

Rigsby stared at his partner in wonder, and continued to guffaw while wiping away tears. "How do you do that man, just turn it off and on like that?"

Cho's expression didn't change, but his voice sounded cockier than usual. "Better than Jane does."

* * *

_Out of the frying pan and into the fire…_

The night was one cliché after another as far as Lisbon was concerned. She'd managed to wrangle Jane out of the frying pan that was crime scene, but now Special Agent J.J. LaRoche of the Professional Standards Unit seemed intent on casting the consultant into the proverbial fire.

"Mr. Jane will answer my questions or face immediate suspension."

Lisbon had tried to maintain the upper hand between the two men, but it was to no avail. LaRoche wanted answers and Jane was willing to provide them, so she had left them to it with a warning. If Jane was not sitting in the passenger side of her departmental SUV in five minutes, she'd come get him herself. Threats or gunpoint whatever it took.

It didn't come to violence however, and Lisbon barely had to time adjust her seatbelt before Jane came weaving towards the SUV.

Shit, she'd forgotten about his limited mobility. She rolled down the window. "Jane are you okay? Can you walk?"

He made a disgusted face. "What doesh it look like em doing? Cart wheels?"

No, but he also wasn't able to walk the yellow line so to speak. Still, she left him to his own devices. It wasn't like he had far to go. Jane made it to the passenger side door clumsily and then began to paw at the door handle. Lisbon leaned over to open the door for him, but the look he gave her and the brief pound of his hand against the window stopped her.

"Fine," she said, knowing he probably couldn't hear her from outside the vehicle. She raised her hands in surrender. "Do it yourself. The floor show should be worth it."

Jane managed to open the door with only a little fumbling before he fell into the SUV. After taking a moment to readjust his body from a sprawled position to one more resembling sitting he let out a heavy sigh.

Any anger Lisbon had been harboring towards him dissolved when she heard that defeated noise. "Long night, hey?" she asked him while rubbing his shoulder. He grunted his concurrence. "It's over now Jane. Let's get you home."

Jane turned to face her with a lecherous grin. "You wanna take me home Lishbon?"

Oh God, not this, not now. How could she stop him from embarrassing them both?

"Well Jane, there's a difference between want and need, and while I may not want to take you home, I kind of need to take you home. You're drunk."

"You need to take me home Lishbon?"

The question was uttered in the same sleepy, bewildered tone he'd used when she'd called him months ago, panicked from the inside of a mansion where she was trapped with a three year old and a bomb. His mumbled, "You need me Lisbon?" had come out in such an unguarded manner, a sexy, unguarded manner, if she was willing to be perfectly honest about it, that she'd almost forgot the child and the bomb for several seconds. Dear Lord, was he going to call her a bad girl again? No, she had to get control of the situation before it devolved further.

_Denial, denial__  
__Denial, denial__  
__Your ears should be burning__  
__Denial, denial__  
__Your ears should be burning__  
__Denial, denial_

"I'm taking you home because you're drunk Jane. You're going home to sleep it off and hopefully not choke on your own vomit."

"Sleep it off?" He lunged across the seat and ran his hand up her thigh. "To quote you Lishbon… nothing doing."

She swatted at the hand on her thigh, but it made little difference. For all his talk about being smarter than the average bear it turned out that Jane, like most men, became Handsy McDrunk when inebriated. Every time she pushed him off he was on her again like a fat kid on cake. Ordinarily, such advances would have thrilled Lisbon, but right now Jane stunk of whiskey and they were sitting in the middle of a crime scene with fellow officers swarming around.

"Jane get off!" she yelled while slapping his hands away.

He came at her again but she grabbed him by the chin with one hand, and pressed the other into his chest. "Jane, no, no, Jane, look at me," she looked him straight in his unfocused eyes. "Not here. What have I told you? No touching at work. Remember?"

* * *

_I don't want to be your friend__  
__I just want to be your lover__  
__No matter how it ends__  
__No matter how it starts_

She'd made him promise to adhere to this particularly important rule just one month ago when Walter Mashburn had reappeared into their lives. Jane had always pushed Lisbon towards Mashburn claiming she needed a little empty glamour in her world, but it turned out he wasn't so thrilled with idea in practice as opposed to theory. Once he'd realized she'd spent the night with Mashburn, three seconds after clapping eyes on her the next morning, Jane had become sullen and withdrawn.

His behavior over the next few days seemed designed solely to aggravate Lisbon, and once she had confronted him about this fact, Jane had let the truth of the matter come spilling out. Lisbon had been deservedly indignant about the entire thing, and had accused Jane of selfishly manipulating her emotions.

"You don't really want me Jane. You just don't want Mashburn playing with your toys."

"That's not true at all. I want you. Against my better judgment and every rational thought I have, I want you. I'm no candidate for a great love affair Lisbon. You deserve better than me, you deserve someone like Walter. I just, I couldn't, I can't…when you actually went to him…I don't want him touching you!"

"So, you can't have me, but no one else can either? Jane that's not fair! I can't live your celibacy with you."

"I know! I know it's not fair! Nothing about my life since Red John has been fair Lisbon! I also know that anything between us might necessarily come to ruin, but I, I, want, I need to try. Can we try?"

_Forget about your house of cards__  
__And I'll do mine__  
__Forget about your house of cards__  
__And I'll do mine_

Lisbon had wanted to say, do or do not there is no try, but instead she'd told him she'd think about it. She'd still been thinking about it when Rachel Bowman had kidnapped Jane. The sound of his frightened voice coming in and out on her cell phone had shook Lisbon to her core. In the early stages of the investigation Red John was on everyone's mind, but she'd refused to acknowledge that the serial killer could be responsible for Jane's disappearance. If Red John took Jane a second time, chances were, in her mind he wasn't coming back. There was no way she was going to allow that to happen. Not after he'd declared, his, well, not love, but desire to try.

Lisbon finally gave Jane her answer after falling victim to Bowman's plan. He'd been preparing her for the hypnotic state he planned to put her in so Rachel would believe she was dead, and also so Lisbon wouldn't notice all the dead man's blood she was about to be covered in, when she'd whispered softly to him.

"What?"

"I said, if we get out of this, I want to try…with you."

"I, Lisbon, that's great, and I swear this is going to work. We're not going to die here."

He'd been able to lean over just far enough to kiss her on the top of her head before he knelt down to stick his bound hands in the henchman's wounds.

"Oh, jeez, gross. Okay never mind. Lisbon start breathing, slowly and count back from one hundred. Just listen to my voice."

Then he loomed back into her line of sight.

"Listen to my voice Teresa. You're safe, you'll always be safe. You feel safe and protected. Trust me, listen to my voice."

As she felt a heavy weight starting to descend behind her eyelids Lisbon noticed the blood dripping from his hands. She prayed it wasn't an ill omen of things to come if she did trust him.

_Fall off the table,__  
__Get swept under__  
__Denial, denial_

_The infrastructure will collapse__  
__Voltage spikes__  
__Throw your keys in the bowl__  
__Kiss your husband goodnight__  
_

* * *

"Jane! I said get off!"

She punctuated her scream with a solid shove to his chest.

"Fine, fine, I was jush teasing you Lishbon," he grumbled and fell back against the passenger side window. "Jush like you've been teasing me all day with that hot hair."

She felt his arm dart out again and his hand jump up her thigh. "Jesus Jane!" she grabbed his hand and held it to gear shift with her own. "Not. At. Work."

He gave her a crafty smile. "Then take me home Lishbon, cause I'm gonna world your rock tonight!"

_Forget about your house of cards__  
__And I'll do mine__  
__Forget about your house of cards__  
__And I'll do mine_

_Fall off the table,__  
__And get swept under…_

_TBC…Can Jane live up to his promise(s)?_


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own them, however Jane and I share a disdain for "tantric sex practitioners". The person he describes is based loosely on an asshat interviewed by Penn and Teller for their show, _Bullshit_. Lyrics come from the song, "To Know Him" which Linda Ronstadt originally performed and Phil Spector wrote. I prefer the Amy Winehouse version and that we never mention creepy Phil again. Jane is singing a messed up version of Eric Clapton's "Layla" and George Michael's "Faith".

A/N: There will be smut, but not in this chapter. That said- sexual subjects will be discussed in this chapter by the characters. Personally, I don't consider that smutty, but I do think others might, so let's say this is an M chapter in recognition of that. Do with that as you will.

World Your Rock Tonight

Chapter 2

_To know, know, know him__  
__Is to love, love, love him__  
__Just to see him smile__  
__Makes my life worthwhile__  
__To know, know, know him__  
__Is to love, love, love him__  
__And I do…_

_

* * *

_

"Laaaaaayla, do, do, do, got me on my knees Layla, do, do, do, begging darling please Layla, don't kill me with a needle Laaaayla do, do, do…"

Lisbon gripped the steering wheel tighter and gritted her teeth as Jane howled at the top of his lungs. She'd made him stick his head out of the passenger window to ensure he didn't vomit inside a department vehicle. Jane had complied with gusto and was now hanging out of the window like a dog on a road trip while murdering an Eric Clapton song.

"Laaayla, do, do, do, something, something, something…when you get lonely and no one's calling on the phone…"

Lisbon bit down hard on her bottom lip and tried to restrain herself from committing physical violence. "Jane, I'm begging you, please stop singing that song."

Jane pulled his head in from the window. "Sheriously Lishbon? Who doeshn't like Clapton? Look, I really care about you, but if you've got a problem with Clapton we're gonna have to reevaluate this relashtionship."

"I like Clapton just fine Jane. I even enjoy Cream. I'm just not sold on your rendition of his work."

"Fair nuff." Jane rested his head on the window frame. "I could shing something else."

"Or you could sit silently and contemplate the universe until we get home."

"Nah. I do that all day, every day ash it is," he slurred. Then his face lit up. "I know. Thish is the perfect shong for ush."

"Oh no, Jane really it's not necessary."

"George Michael is always necessary. Ask anyone who enjoys hanging out in public toilets."

Lisbon moaned as Jane resumed massacring popular music.

"Well, I guessh it would be nice, if I could touch your body…touch Lishbon's body," he sang while groping her knee.

"Hands off while I'm driving Jane."

His response was to wink at her and continue singing. "I know not everybody has got a body like Lishbon's body…but I've gotta think twice before I touch her body because she knows all the games I play, and she plays them too."

Lisbon tried to bite back her smile, but she couldn't help it. Jane was drunk, and he was annoying, but he was also being incredibly endearing. She just hoped he didn't notice her lapse in anger, but of course he did. Tanked or not he was still Jane.

"Aaahhh there's that smile I wush looking for," he said before carrying on with his song. "Oh, but I need some time off from that emotion. Time to pick my heart off of the floor, so Lishbon please don't kick me out the door."

"Jane stop it," she murmured.

"Are you blushing Lishbon?" He reached for one of her hands. "I love it when you blush."

Her hand remained curled into a fist that he raised to his lips. Lisbon rolled her eyes at his actions.

"I guess you can keep singing."

Jane grinned wide enough to split his face before unfurling her clenched fingers so that he could lace them through his own. Lisbon spent the rest of the ride home driving with one hand and Jane spent it belting out an array of songs that he tailored to include her name as often as possible.

_To know, know, know him__  
__Is to love, love, love him__  
__And I do…_

* * *

"Hey Lishbon?"

"Yeah Jane?"

"I was serious before."

"Serious about what Jane?" Lisbon asked distractedly. She wasn't really paying attention to Jane's conversation. The excessive level of alcohol he'd consumed meant that most of what he'd said during the car ride home was more inane than pertinent. Lisbon figured her concentration was better spent on parking the SUV and getting Jane into her condo.

She had accomplished the first goal and was working on the second, by fiddling uselessly with her door keys, while trying to hold Jane upright. When she finally located her house key and slotted it into the lock Jane spoke again.

"I think tonight is the night," Jane murmured.

Lisbon looked up from the deadbolt quizzically. "Tonight's the night for what?"

Jane's face took on a look that could only be described as "Dirty Old Man". It was incredibly disturbing to witness on such an angelic face.

"You know what," he said while waggling his eyebrows suggestively at her.

Realization dawned on Lisbon like a bucket of cold water to the face. "Oh, Jane, oh, no, I-

"Ish Patrick at home, _Patrick_. Remember the 'Behind Closed Doors Policy', Teresa? It clearly containsh a names clauesh."

Great. She was going to have to argue with drunken Jane. Twelve shots of whiskey and he was, no doubt, still a match for the Harvard Speech and Parliamentary Debate Society-a sloppy match but a match nonetheless.

"Okay, _Patrick_, here's the thing we're not behind closed doors right now."

It was the truth. They were standing in the corridor outside her condo.

Jane looked down at Lisbon's hand on the door knob and raised an eyebrow. Then, in a surprisingly agile for an intoxicated man move, he pushed down on the handle and swung the weight of his body against Lisbon and the door. This resulted in the door flying inwards, and Lisbon being trapped between it and Jane's chest. Lisbon sent out a silent prayer for the damage deposit on her condo when she heard the resounding thud of the door meeting a wall. Jane remained oblivious to the destruction he was causing in her home and leaned in to kiss her. A last minute twist to the right by Lisbon left him bereft of her mouth, so he settled on her ear.

"We're inshide now," he stated between nibbles at her ear.

"We sure are," Lisbon said and placed her hands on his shoulders to push him off. "Jane, stop it. Let's take a minute okay? Let's get our coats and shoes off, and settle in properly. Hey? Sound good?"

He moved away from her begrudgingly. "Fine."

Lisbon went to work stripping off her coat and boots, and then helped Jane out of his shoes. He wasn't wearing a coat and she had no idea what had become of his suit jacket. It had gone missing somewhere between Wilder's office, LaRoche's inquisition and the SUV. She brushed off his waistcoat and straightened his collar.

"Well, there goes another suit. Do you have any idea where your jacket went?"

Jane surveyed his jacket-less form. "Nope."

"Guess this one's a write off then," Lisbon said. "It's too bad, I liked this one. Charcoal piping works for you."

Jane gave her a crooked smile and preened in his waistcoat. "No need to Goodwill thish one Lishbon. I'll just ditch the pantsh and keep the vest. I'll wear it with jeans like that meek, music teacher, whom- for reasons I cannot fathom- you find attractive."

Lisbon ran her tongue over her teeth. "I work a very stressful job that is filled with tragedy Jane. If I want to watch an hour long musical drama once a week on Fox because it makes me feel like the world isn't complete shit then I'm well within my rights."

"And if that wush truly your motivation for watching I'd concur. But, we both know you jush watch it to ogle that cuckold educator while he dances around with his shaved chest on dishplay."

"For the record he's taken his shirt off once, just once, I should know I'm counting, and again, no one would fault me for it. Plus, what have I told you about Mr. Schue?"

Jane rolled his eyes. "That no one ish to, quote, 'talk smack' about him in your preschensce."

"Exactly. Now let's get you into bed. Although, a shower wouldn't hurt either. You smell like a distillery."

"Both sound good to me," Jane slurred and wrapped his arms around Lisbon from behind. "So, the decishion ish lady's choice." His hands came up to cup her breasts over her shirt.

"Jane, that's enough," Lisbon turned in his arms to face him. "You've drank your weight in whiskey tonight. You're going to feel like shit in the morning. I'm surprised you're even conscious right now. I think you should just go to bed and sleep with a bucket next to your head."

"Sleep, schmeep Lishbon, I'm fine," Jane protested.

She played with his collar and weighed her next words carefully. "I just don't think it would be a good time, to you know," Jesus, she sounded like a sixteen year old girl trying to talk down a horny date in the back seat of his Datsun, "You've been drinking, and I haven't, and you know what it was like the last time we tried to-

"Lishbon," Jane groaned and dropped his head to her shoulder. "Do we really need to bring up the last time?"

Lisbon sighed and wrapped her arms around him. "Well, sweetie, it," God, was she really going to go there? Yes, she had to. "It wasn't just the last time was it?"

He drew back and looked her in the face. His features were a mixture of pain and incredulousness. "Really Lishbon? Really? We're gonna do thish now?"

"Jane! We can't pretend like it didn't happen! And, I only brought it up because you're drunk as a skunk right now, and I know you think you're some sort of superman with incredible impulse control, but given our track record….I mean it's called whiskey dick for a reason Jane."

His arms fell away from her body and he crumpled in on himself. "Lishbon, that was uncalled for."

She shook her head and reached for him. He tried to evade her grasp but he was too wasted.

"Jane, c'mere, sit down," she said and dragged him towards the couch. Lisbon sat and tugged Jane down next to her. "We have to talk about this okay? We can't just tip toe around it. I didn't say what I said right now to hurt you-

"What then, may I ashk was implying I'm a drunk, middle-aged premature ejaculator supposed to do?"

Lisbon fought back the smile that threatened to slip across her lips after his comical summary of her argument. She might find it funny, but she knew Jane didn't. Truth be told while she found his phrasing humorous, she was in no way amused by their shared predicament.

_To know, know, know him__  
__Is to love, love, love him_

* * *

After Walter they'd begun a tentative fumble towards a relationship, but it didn't reach the point of consummation until after Hightower had narrowly rescued them from Rachel Bowman. Jane and Lisbon had clasped hands behind Hightower's back and walked up the stairs to freedom together. After a quick examination by emergency services, a wash down to remove all the borrowed blood from Lisbon's neck, and the lend of a t-shirt-also for Lisbon-from an EMT the pair had made off in the SUV after refusing to ride in the ambulance.

They made it ten minutes down the road before pulling off into a clearing for privacy. The hand brake had barely been engaged when they were lunging for each other, tearing clothes and sharing dueling kisses. Near death experiences tend to bring out the freak in everybody. Some people see the light and get God, while others feel the need to reaffirm their non-spiritual, physical existence via unprotected sex in a company car. Jane and Lisbon fell into the latter category.

Their fun was short lived however, and just as Lisbon had leapt from the driver's side to straddle Jane in the passenger seat, he let out a strangled moan and fell against her. It was several seconds before Lisbon realized what had happened, but then she quickly fell over herself to comfort him. It was no surprise that a man who had denied himself sex for five years or more, and had recently been tortured with a stun gun would arrive early at the party, so to speak, and she told him as much. Jane hadn't been happy with the situation, but he'd agreed to try and see it Lisbon's way.

Of course it didn't help matters when a few hours later, once they'd made their way back to CBI headquarters Lisbon had ribbed him about being, "old and creaky". Jane had been reluctant for the next two weeks to oblige Lisbon's physical advances, and had withdrawn into his usual M.O. of outlandish stunts and witty barbs until the Todd Brock case. Lisbon had been worried enough over how easily Jane seemed to be able to slide back into bad habits, but his immediate display of fellow feeling for Todd Brock-the seemingly heartbroken fiancée-nearly put her over the edge. She knew that Brock's declaration of revenge echoed Jane's own purpose in life and she was afraid that instead of talking the younger man out of his quest for vengeance the consultant would just give him pointers.

Her fears were proven to be misguided however, when Jane revealed Brock to be his fiancée's murderer. Still, the case had stirred up Jane's worst traits and amplified them to an almost intolerable point culminating in his childishly stubborn refusal to interrogate Brock. Lisbon had been at a loss as to where their fledgling relationship was going, or if it even existed anymore thanks to Brock, but then Jane's mood had changed faster than the weather. After finding Brock aflame in the interrogation room Jane went from cold to clingy. He'd followed her about after giving his statement to Internal Affairs, and moped around her desk as she prepared to leave for the night until she was forced to ask him if he wanted to have dinner, or at least go back to her place for the night. He'd quickly accepted whatever company she'd been willing to offer, and later after a quiet dinner of pizza eaten off napkins in her living room, Jane had shyly tried to put the moves on her.

Lisbon had debated letting him suffer for the terrible behavior he'd displayed in last few weeks, but the raw emotion she saw in his eyes prevented her from being stern. Witnessing Brock's death seemed to have shaken him up badly and Lisbon didn't want to compound the problem. Plus, she had missed Jane since he'd withdrawn himself from her after the SUV fiasco. They were both looking for some comfort and more than willing to oblige the others' need. It happened slower than their first attempt at intimacy. Jane's advances were languid and tender, and Lisbon for her part tried to treat him with care. And yet, despite their best efforts once the main event rolled around Jane- the man who lived for the spotlight-found he was unable to perform. This time he wasn't early to the party, he, or rather, Little Patrick, simply decided not to show up at all.

Lisbon had been left to watch, feeling equal parts frustrated and sympathetic as Jane dealt with his own anger at the situation. Again Lisbon had told him it was alright, and to be expected, given his dry spell and his emotional state, and again he'd scoffed at the idea of his body trumping his brain. Sure, regular people couldn't control their physical impulses, but Jane had made a living out of demonstrating such feats against nature. He refused to believe that he couldn't will his body into submission, but several further attempts to produce the desired effect yielded no results, and he'd had to content himself with simply holding Lisbon while they slept. This was no less intimate than sex for a man who had lived such a solitary existence for so long, but it was still very much the consolation prize.

Jane's problem had continued to plague their sex life since that night, to the point that Lisbon wasn't sure they could actually be classified as having a sex life. If they were, it was very one-sided. Jane had ensured her pleasure by any means necessary, after all the man was nothing if not good with his mouth and hands, but there didn't seem to be much she could do for him. Lisbon was afraid that perhaps the problem was her, and that Jane just wasn't interested, whether he'd admit it or not, in a body not attached to his late wife. Jane, for his part, thought this argument was ludicrous, and told her as much in no uncertain terms.

"Lisbon…Teresa…come on, are you serious? Do you know how much I'm risking here? What we're both risking? I wouldn't tempt fate like this for anyone but you. Whatever this thing is, whatever's causing it, it's me, not you."

She'd wanted to ask him if maybe deep, down his fears were the cause of their mutual scourge. Neither of them seemed to want to take this excellent hypothesis seriously, because it would mean dragging the bane of their existence into the bedroom with them. Lisbon spent ninety-nine percent of her professional life worrying about Jane and Red John, and how to avoid a face off between the two. As far as she was concerned the serial killer's part in Jane's biopic was already big enough. Since she was playing the romantic interest, Lisbon refused to share her spotlight, or their sex life with Red John.

But, as the weeks went on, and Jane remained unable to let go fully with her, Lisbon began to think that a discussion about Red John and his impact on their relationship might be inevitable. But, whenever she broached the subject Jane stonewalled her either with cold silence, or a plea to her baser instincts. Most serious conversations about his hang ups ended with Lisbon as a quivering mess, shouting Jane's name after he'd managed to distract her long enough to get her panties off and his head between her legs. Each time she swore the next time would be different, but she was coming to find dating a hypnotist meant they'd rarely engage in a conversation he didn't want to have.

* * *

_I'll be good to him__  
__I'll bring joy to him__  
__Everyone says there'll come a day__  
__When I'll walk alongside of him__  
__Yes just to know him__  
__Is to love, love, love him__  
__And I do_

Lisbon's ruminations wound her back to the present moment and she wondered if maybe now, with Jane not operating at full capacity, it might be a good time to hash out the unspoken issues between them. Then she remembered that he was incapable of standing upright alone and forming completely coherent sentences so she abandoned the idea. No matter how gut wrenching the outcome, she and Jane needed to soberly discuss their problems. She glanced over at Jane who staring at his folded hands with an expression that could only be described as dejected. She reached across the divide between them and ran a hand through his hair. He wasn't completely lost, or immune to her, because he leaned into her touch and sighed before turning to meet her gaze.

"Jane, Patrick, look at me. We need to talk about this rationally, but let's not make a big deal of it tonight okay? You're drunk, and it's not a good time for heavy relationship stuff."

Jane let out another sigh and fell back into the couch before throwing an arm over his face. "When will be the right time Lisbon?" he asked while peering out from under his elbow. "If we don't do it soon, we might never manage it."

"Don't be so dramatic."

"Fine. But, serioushly," he began while scooting closer to her. "Maybe this is just what we needed. Me sans inhibitions."

Lisbon smiled as Jane let some French slip into his conversation. In a bid to reassure him that, sex or not, she found him desirable she'd confessed to being very turned on by his liberal use of the French language. Still, he could chase her around the condo a la Peppy le Pew and she still wasn't going to put out when he was three sheets to wind, and not over the Brock case, or whatever was holding him back from her.

"See the thing is Jane I don't think you're actually sans inhibitions right now. The booze is just making it easier to ignore them. That's why drunks drink."

"Sans, ignoring, whatever works Lishbon."

She wrapped an arm around his shoulders and used the other to capture one of his hands with her own. "It might not work though Jane, and then what? Tonight was a long night, and you've had a lot to drink. At our age that's not exactly a recipe for fireworks."

"Pssshaw," Jane snorted at her concerns. "Did you completely missh my performance back at Wilder's Lishbon? Look, just get me some water, and a toothbrush, and I promish you you're in for a good time."

She let go of his hand so she could drop her face into both of hers. "Jane, did it ever occur to you that I don't want our first time to happen while you're drunk? Or that I don't want you to pull these mumbo-jumbo, biorhythm, tantric sex moves-

"Tantric sex moves?" Jane's question was more of a shout. "Really Lishbon? Gross!"

She looked up at him with disbelief. "Me gross? Jane you're the one whose always bragging about being able to control everything from your sweat to your heart rate…I just assumed…"

"Well, a wise man once shaid, assuming makes an ass out of you and me," Jane countered. "Furthermore I'm inshulted you would compare my parlor tricksh, or my skills as a lover to tantric sex."

"Jesus Jane, it was a joke."

This statement did not mollify him. If anything it fanned the flames. "You think it's funny to be compared to a tantric sex practitioner? Have you ever met one?"

"Er, no. Not that I know of."

"I have! It's terrifying! It wush back when I wush first breaking into spiritual show business. There wush this guy-fucking guy-travelled the same circuit, moved in the same crowds. He called himself a love guru. Best con ever for a pervert!" Just describing the kind of man who conned people for sex was working Jane into a fury. Lisbon watched as his eyes grew wider with each damning statement and his face turned red. "He had the works, the long white ponytail, the meditation crystal necklace, the shirt unbuttoned to the navel-

Jane stopped short, surprising them both. He hiccupped a little and then widened his eyes with alarm. He was scrambling off the sofa before Lisbon could make heads or tails of the situation.

"Oh fuck, look out Lishbon!" he cried while shoving her out of the way with a hand over his mouth.

It was now completely apparent to Lisbon what was going to happen and she jumped up to shepherd Jane to the bathroom. Between the two of them they managed to make it, stumbling all the way, to the half bathroom next to her living room just as the whiskey Jane had consumed earlier decided to make its reappearance. Lisbon watched helplessly as Jane began retching like the kid from the _Exorcist_ into her toilet.

She steeled herself against the urge to sympathy puke, and knelt over to rub his back, but Jane pushed her hand away.

"Go way Lisbon," he said once he could speak. "Is fine, you don' need to see this. Just leave me some water and Aspirin."

"Don't be ridiculous Jane. It wouldn't be the first time I saw a drunk guy toss his cookies."

"Doesn' matter. Don' wanna be lumped in with that rot. I…gukkkkkk!"

Lisbon hugged him from behind as the vomiting began anew. "S'okay," she said while rubbing his stomach. "Just get it out Jane, let it all out."

His only reply was to make a kind of inhuman noise-followed by another Technicolor yawn- that had her wondering if he was puking or trying to turn himself inside out.

Jane continued to get sick for the better part of an hour, and Lisbon remained by his side the entire time, leaving him only long enough to wet a face cloth with cool water before returning to press it against his forehead. Eventually, once he'd been reduced to dry heaves only, Jane gave up the fight and lay sprawled on the bathroom floor with his head in Lisbon's lap. He thought she should leave him there for the night, and told her so. It would allow her to salvage what little sleep she could garner before day break, and he could lie naked and shaking on the bathroom floor in the timeless manner of all drunks before him.

"Not a chance Jane," she said and continued dabbing at his face and neck with the cloth. "We'll wait till you can move, then you're gonna drink some flat ginger-ale and I'll help you get cleaned up."

"Buh."

It wasn't much, but it was all he could manage and she was fairly certain it represented acquiescence on Jane's part.

"Kay. Just let me know when you feel like you can get up."

"Uh huh."

"I'm just going to make you some flat soda. Lift your head up for me," she said and helped him raise his neck off her lap. She quickly slipped a rolled up towel under his head and gave him a peck on the nose before jumping up to go in search of ginger-ale. "Don't go anywhere, I'll be right back."

"Huh…funny. Both know…might never… move again."

"Don't be silly Jane. Getting drunk hurts at our age, but the ginger-ale will do wonders, you'll see."

* * *

_Why can't he see__  
__How blind can he be__  
__Someday he will see__  
__That he was meant for me_

Flat ginger-ale didn't completely cure Jane of his inebriation, but it did help him get up off the bathroom floor. It also caused him to seriously evaluate his relationship with Lisbon. He'd been lying there on the tiles, in her lap once more, allowing her to cautiously feed him the soda like a mother with her new born, when he realized no one had seen him like this save his mother and Angie. His mother had died too soon to see him drunk, but she'd certainly changed his shitty diapers and cared for him when he was most helpless. There was nothing he hadn't shared with Angie, mutual vulnerability and memories, sex, death, sickness, health and the birth of a child. It was almost impossible to maintain the sexy mystery of dating while married. It had never bothered him that Angie was party to his most private moments, even if he had always hoped to someday break her habit of wandering into the bathroom while he urinated. "Please Paddy," she'd say dismissively, "Like I haven't seen it before. I'm supposed to turn away when you use it to pee, but be front and center when you're poking me with it in bed? Grow up".

Lisbon had never seen him drunk before. Nor, did he allow her, until recently, very many glimpses at the man behind the capable mask he wore these days. He couldn't risk the kind of exposure that comes with emotional nakedness.

"_If you want revenge Todd you have to be cold, hard and deceptive, no one can really know what's in your heart"._

But Lisbon was so close now, so involved, that it was getting harder and harder for him to maintain a deceptive distance from her. He was trying his best to keep the boundaries in place, to share love with her, but also continue his quest for Red John's destruction. Jane was beginning to suspect, as he swallowed tiny sips of ginger-ale, that this paradox was at the root of his inability to, uh, rise to the occasion with Lisbon.

He wanted LaRoche's list of suspects, needed it even, because its acquisition would represent, as he'd told Minelli, the first jump he'd managed to get on the Red John since joining the CBI. Before agreeing to try and obtain the list for Jane Minelli had asked if Lisbon was in on the plan. Jane had side stepped the issue, but now, looking up into her compassionate green eyes, the same eyes she always looked at him with when she was worried about his well-being, the eyes that said, "Someone loves you, do you know that? Please be careful with yourself", and he felt intensely guilty for how much he'd been hiding from her since Kristina Frye's disappearance.

He couldn't keep her in the dark any longer, but he also had no idea what, or how, to tell her about his personal, side investigation into Red John. There was the poem, the gun, the terrible feeling of being at loose ends since meeting Red John face to face, the guilt and anguish for Kristina, his fears for the team's safety, for her safety really, it was all so much and he didn't know where to begin explaining it. This thing between them was new, and while it wasn't working perfectly, and his problem was causing him to miss out on what should have been the single best thing to happen in his miserable life post-Angie, it was still amazing to wake up in the morning next to someone who cared. Jane didn't want to lose what little there was between he and Lisbon, and he was terrified that coming clean about all his lies, big and small over the past year, would drive her away, make her angry beyond all reason. It felt like his only choices were no Lisbon or Lisbon half-ways. The first was not an option he wanted to exercise and the second was better than nothing.

"Do you think you can get up now?" Lisbon asked placing the empty glass next to his head.

"Yeah, think so."

"Okay, well, let's get you sitting up first and if you feel like stuff is spinning too much let me know."

Lisbon gently assisted him into a sitting position. Jane turned to look at her and smiled weakly before touching his forehead to hers. "Thanks."

"No problem," she said, but pulled back to wrinkle her nose. "Oh, Jane, we've got to get you to the bathroom upstairs. No offense, I'm glad you feel better, but your breath, it smells like whiskey and puke."

"Love you too," he mumbled nonchalantly. He'd meant it as a joke, as in thanks for kicking me when I'm down, but the look in Lisbon's eyes after he'd uttered those three words made him pause.

She didn't say anything, just stared at him with a shocked expression. Jane's mind scrambled for words to say, but he came up empty. Even geniuses are gutted after vomiting for forty-five minutes. In the end they simply gaped at each other, each willing the other to make sense of what was going on between them. But, as usual they both chickened out when forced to the precipice.

Lisbon broke the spell by speaking first. "So, think you can make it upstairs?"

Jane was both relieved and frustrated. The relieved part of him just wanted to strip off all of his clothes, shower the day away and collapse into a warm bed. The frustrated part wanted Lisbon to force his hand, and make him confess all his secrets to her by any means necessary. Instead he just put on a resolved face and began a shaky attempt to stand up. It took a lot of help from Lisbon, and a strong grip on the sink to get him on his feet, but it worked.

Once Jane was steady, and Lisbon was confident he was able to walk, they made their way slowly upstairs to the full bathroom adjacent to her bedroom. Lisbon placed Jane on the toilet for safe-keeping and rifled around in her medicine cabinet for a new toothbrush. After locating one in the back of a forgotten drawer, she tore it open, wet it down and loaded it with tooth paste.

"Here," she said handing the brush to Jane. "Chew on this for awhile. I'm going to get you out of these clothes."

Jane did as he was told and Lisbon got to work removing his clothes. The vest was the first to go, followed by his socks and belt. When he stood to spit toothpaste into the sink she divested him of his pants. Jane rinsed and gargled while Lisbon unbuttoned his dress shirt. She left him then, in this shambolic state of undress to run hot water into the tub.

"Alright Jane, I think a shower would be best, but standing might be an issue for you, so finish getting undressed, and just sit down in here. I'll hose you down from above."

He looked at her, and said nothing, but his eyes were full of censure that said, "Perhaps we should go the easy route no". Lisbon for her part was getting better and better at reading him just as he did to other people.

"Do you really want to get a bath Jane? It would mean sitting in stagnant water with your own filth, and let's not forget you just projectile vomited all over yourself."

He grimaced. "Excellent point Watson. Shower it is," he said and began pulling off the last of his clothes.

Lisbon watched silently and then helped him into the bath tub. Jane sat down with a wince and a sigh.

"Are you alright?" she asked.

"Well, you know, I am 'old and creaky' now," he said peevishly.

"I'll have to remind you of this moment the next time some hot, young, thing comes onto you during a case."

"Cause that happens all the time."

"No, but usually every third case."

"Keeping track are we?"

"Someone has to monitor your ego or it might swell to a breaking point and cause a fatal explosion in the bull pen."

Lisbon abandoned their banter to pull the shower head off its mount. She turned it on, and tested the temperature of the water. Jane was already drunk, and she didn't want him burned as well.

"How's the water?" she asked while gently spraying circles on his back.

"The best thing that's happened to me all day," he replied.

Lisbon grinned at his candor. "Lean back, I'm going to wash your hair. You, um, got some of your lunch in there."

Jane complied. "Really? Jesus, you'd think I was a sorority sister," he said and then pitched his voice higher. "Like, next time, totally hold my hair back or something."

She laughed as she lathered up some shampoo and ran it through his hair. Jane hummed with ecstasy as she massaged his scalp and Lisbon felt immensely better for it. He wasn't getting much from her in the bedroom, but he was clearly, in this moment at least, content. As was she, to tell the truth. Washing Jane's hair, or at least having an excuse to maul his curls continuously, was a secret fantasy of hers and if nothing else, his getting completely wasted gave her an excuse to indulge.

Lisbon rinsed his hair free of bubbles and then went to work washing down the rest of him. Jane for his part reacted like a lazy dog getting a rub down from a much beloved owner. He had felt shaky, cold and sick when he entered the tub, but he was quickly beginning to come around to warm, sleepy and sated. He was also more committed than ever to figuring out a way to deal with the mental demons that were causing his physical short comings. Lisbon had left him no option. She'd agreed to 'try' with him even after his childish behavior over Walter. She'd comforted him after the embarrassment in the SUV and stood by him as he'd devolved into his old, snarky, cloistered self afterward. Her patience during the Brock case had been unceasing, and even if she didn't completely trust him, she wasn't openly suspicious of him all the time anymore. For that alone, and all the other reasons he could list, she deserved to know his truths and, quite frankly he owed her a decent lay.

He left the tub intent on fixing his bull-shit, and meeting Lisbon more than half-way professionally and personally.

Lisbon, completely oblivious to his inner turmoil, simply toweled him off and wrapped the fluffy fabric around his waist tightly.

"Alright," she said taking his hand and leading him from the steaming bathroom. "It's time for drunk little consultants to go to bed."

"Do drunk consultants have to sleep on their own?" he asked, well aware of Lisbon's guest bed just several feet down the hall.

"Not if they promise to lay off the monkey business and actually go to sleep."

Jane's response was to yawn audibly. "Won't be a problem."

She turned around to crook an ironic brow at him. "That would be a first."

He shrugged, and purposely loaded his next words with double meaning. "Let's hope it's not the only one."

Lisbon looked ready to reply, but a shrill noise emanating from his vest cut her off. She reached into the breast pocket that kept his cell hidden and close, and withdrew the phone.

"Jane you're the only man I know who keeps his cell phone in a fob pocket. Then again, you're the only man I know who still wears three piece suits that are pocket watch compatible," she said absently while tossing him his phone.

Jane caught it and pulled up the display screen. According to his phone he had one text waiting, and a few quick taps revealed it to be from Minelli. Jane looked up to ensure Lisbon was not within eye shot before he opened the message.

"_Got it. Tomorrow the pier 1pm."_

He had nothing to worry about as she'd wandered on to the bedroom, seemingly unconcerned with who was texting him at two-thirty in the morning. He knew she could be feigning disinterest, but either way he felt his heart swell with emotion at the level of trust she was willing to offer him. If he'd found her phone beeping in the early morning hours, he'd have gone through every text she'd ever sent and received. The restraint Lisbon was demonstrating humbled him, and just reaffirmed his pledge to some how include her more in his inner world.

There is a sharp difference between intent and action however, and Jane knew he was at a loss as to how to let Lisbon in. How much did he tell her? Would confessing really relieve his mind enough to benefit his body? Or would he wind up mentally unburdened enough for sex, but without anyone to have it with once Lisbon knew the extent of his secrecy?

He needed a plan, but at two-thirty in the morning clad only in a towel, and with little dignity left it was hard to formulate one.

"You okay?" Lisbon called from the bedroom.

"Uh, yeah, just um, just gotta pee."

Just gotta pee? Had he really once been a master con artist with lines like that?

Jane shut the bathroom door and sat on the toilet seat to ruminate. He thought about Lisbon, and their sexual foibles. He thought about Minelli and his drinking, and LaRoche and his list. Then his mind drifted to Bernard Ripple and May Nelson. He got stuck on May for a bit, and relived his emotional moment in her A.A. meeting. He'd told LaRoche he'd been lying, and just play acting when he'd choked out his back story to the support group, but that too had been another fib. Jane had been more honest for those ten minutes than he'd been in the last ten years, and he had a feeling May Nelson knew this. Suddenly, as they were wont to do, a plan came to him. May Nelson, May was the answer to several of his problems.

He quickly flipped open his phone and scrolled through his phone history. Once he located May's number, which she had provided after reluctantly agreeing to sponsor him, Jane sent her a text.

"_Something's come up re: Bernard's case. Need to see you at 12pm tomorrow. I'll come to you."_

It was a lie, but he needed May to show up, and playing on her loss was the only was to ensure she would show up. He then sent another text to Minelli confirming their one o'clock meeting. May would help him, and then Jane would help May and Minelli by introducing them. There-that would do it, help all round. Then hopefully he could come home, and find some way to explain himself to Lisbon that wouldn't send her running for the door, but instead end with them attached at the hip, literally.

Jane stood up, flushed the toilet and washed his hands for appearances, and then walked into the bedroom. Lisbon was already dressed for bed and under the covers. He turned down the blankets on his side and slid in with a satisfied groan.

"Feeling better?" Lisbon asked while pulling him over to lie on her chest.

"Mmhm," Jane mumbled into the space between her breasts. "Am I crushing you?"

"Nope," she said and rubbed the curls at the base of his neck. "Wouldn't matter if you were though."

"So I can stay?"

Lisbon smiled. She'd come to find that despite Jane's troubles in bed, he was a very intimate sleeper. The closer they were the better, and she supposed it was a hold over from his married life. For a single gal like herself it presented a bit of a problem, as she wasn't used to someone else in her bed on the regular. The first few weeks they'd shared a bed Lisbon had found herself kept awake by Jane's night time strangle hold on her body, but like any woman in a new relationship she'd been reluctant to tell him this. Eventually, however, she'd had to confess her need for sleeping space to Jane, or else she'd become the insomniac in their relationship. But, holding her seemed to help Jane sleep and Lisbon didn't want him to have to give that up, so they'd worked out a system. He could stay glued to her until he fell asleep, then Lisbon would employ the roll over and extraction method to get him back on his side of the bed. Unless she had agreed to, "let him stay" before falling asleep. Tonight was one of those nights.

"Yeah, you can stay."

_To know, know, know him__  
__Is to love, love, love him__  
__Just to see him smile__  
__Makes my life worthwhile__  
__To know, know, know him__  
__Is to love, love, love him__  
__And I do…I really do…_

_TBC…Happy Holidays everyone! I can't believe I'm posting at 3am on Xmas Eve. I do actually have friends and family, I swear! But, I fell asleep this afternoon after a boozy Xmas lunch with friends and woke up a few hours ago wired and with no presents wrapped. This is the result…and still no wrapping done. Just call me Fanfic Santa! I hope you enjoy the gift!_


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I own nothing associated with _The Mentalist_. Lyrics are from The Band's "Stage Fright". PS. Robbie Robertson just dropped a new album for the first time in a decade.

A/N: My computer is having hardware issues so it's difficult for me to update quickly. I'm working off a cobbled together desk top that's so old I expect Marty McFly to pop out of nowhere any minute and demand The Doc's computer back. So please bear with me.

The beginning of this chapter is really just an excuse to employ Cho, because I feel like on the show and in fanfic there's just not enough Cho. Again, I feel there should be an M warning, not for actual sex, but the discussion of it.

World Your Rock Tonight

Chapter 3

_Now deep in the heart of a lonely kid__  
__Who suffered so much for what he did,__  
__They gave this ploughboy his fortune and fame,__  
__Since that day he ain't been the same._

_See the man with the stage fright__  
__Just standin' up there to give it all his might.__  
__And he got caught in the spotlight,__  
__But when we get to the end__  
__He wants to start all over again._

_I've got fire water right on my breath__  
__And the doctor warned me I might catch a death.__  
__Said, "You can make it in your disguise,__  
__Just never show the fear that's in your eyes."_

* * *

When Jane awoke from his alcohol induced slumber he was greeted by the sound of rushing water. Loud rushing water, the kind that is usually only found at Hydro plants or Niagara Falls. It felt and sounded like he was in a barrel going over the falls and hitting every rock on the way down.

He tried to move in order to escape the barrel and the water, but the only thing he accomplished was moaning in agony as what little he could remember of the night before came rushing back to him. Oh right, the whiskey. He wasn't in a barrel or at Niagara Falls, he was in Lisbon's bed listening to her shower, and dying from a hang over.

So, this was what getting drunk in your forties amounted to hey? Welcome to middle age Patrick, bet you thought you'd be a golden boy forever. Jane pried his eyes open and immediately closed them again. The lamp on Lisbon's side of the bed was shining directly into his corneas, searing them with the kind of light typically given off by a thousand burning suns.

Forget the falls, he was in Hell. Which circle of Hell he was currently residing in was impossible to determine. Generally, Jane considered himself to be living in the Eighth Circle of Hell, but he wasn't sure that particular ring applied to drunkenness. Of course, it wasn't like his life was spent exclusively in Eight or as it was otherwise known, Fraud. He also spent a good deal of time in One (Limbo), Five (Anger) and since Lisbon had agreed to "try" with him there had been forays into Two (Lust) and an overall a sinking feeling that the longer he lied to her the closer he was getting to Nine (Treachery). Maybe getting completely FUBAR'd equaled Three (Gluttony). He really wasn't much of a theologian in the mornings, especially when hung over.

"So you regained consciousness I see."

Lisbon had appeared before him in nothing but a towel and was now making her concerned face at him.

"More or less," he mumbled in a scratchy voice.

"Aw Muffin," she teased while sitting down on the bed next to him.

It was a mocking endearment Van Pelt had taught her. Whenever one of the men on their team behaved like an overgrown baby, as all men, even Cho, are wont to do when sick, they were greeted by Grace's faux concern which compared them to a baked good usually served at breakfast.

"Don't Muffin me. I did what I did in the line of duty. I sacrificed myself for the greater good."

Lisbon let out a snort of laughter. "Yes Jane, you're right, it's totally comparable to getting shot while on duty. You're a hero, a whiskey soaked hero."

"I remain unconvinced by your sarcastic praise."

"Well, at least I know you're definitely sober now. Your mouth and words are working double time again."

"People with extensive vocabularies, such as I, are a dying breed Lisbon. The unwashed masses and their reliance on the word 'like' are winning the war for idiocracy. Soon darkness will cover the land and there will be no distinction between 'your' and 'you are'. There will be only U and R combined to make a grammatical fail accepted by all as the new English."

Lisbon simply rolled her eyes and did the only thing she could think of to shut Jane up when he was off on one of his I'm-so-superior-and-smart rants. She dropped her towel and let it pool around her waist. Jane's mouth immediately stopped moving and his gaze was drawn to her chest like a moth to a flame. Men, they're all obsessed with tits even the gay ones.

Lisbon smirked at Jane's continued silence. "Alright, now that you're done lecturing me about grammar I'm going to go downstairs and get you some water and Aspirin. Then you'll take said Aspirin and go back to sleep, because you're not coming into work today. Understood?"

She watched as he nodded without ever taking his eyes off her breasts.

"Good," she said standing up and letting her towel drop to the floor. Just to rub her greatness in Jane's face a little more she raised her hands above her head, watched his Adam's apple bob in response and lowered her voice. "Thus spoke Teresa-thustra!" She bellowed before stamping out of the bedroom in all her naked glory.

Jane watched her go and then relaxed back onto his pillow pouting like a three year old. It was times like this he regretted giving Lisbon that E-Reader for her birthday which had come with one hundred literary classics already uploaded onto its software.

* * *

Meanwhile, Lisbon was smiling away as she rummaged through the first aid cupboard in her kitchen. She had to admit that damn reader came in handy whenever she wanted to show Jane he wasn't the only smart cookie in the room.

She'd almost made Jane return the thing when he'd given it to her in April. It had been incredibly nice of him to make such an extravagant purchase, but she'd also felt it was outside the bounds of their then strictly professional relationship. Colleagues didn't spend hundred of dollars on birthday gifts for one another. She knew Jane had money, lots of it, and that he didn't really care how it got spent, but it was the principle of the matter that counted. It was inappropriate for him to single her out like that and spend so much on her birthday gift.

It was Cho who had convinced her to keep the E-Reader. When she'd opened it at the table in front of the team his face had become a picture of naked longing. Everyone's attention was torn between the Cho and Lisbon. Her angry surprise and his open jealousy made it hard to know where to look. Grace had simply ducked her head, while Rigsby had tossed his gaze back and forth between the two like he was watching Wimbledon. Jane had eyes only for Cho. He'd anticipated Lisbon's ire over his gift, but witnessing emotion from Cho was something new entirely.

Once the cake had been eaten and Lisbon had retreated to her office Cho had followed her inside.

"You should keep that reader," he said. His face was once again a blank mask.

Lisbon sighed. "Look, Cho, I get it- you love books, and I can see why you'd think me ungrateful, but it's just too much."

"No it's not. Not for Jane. He's loaded. Plus, he's caused you enough grief over the years. Consider it payback for all the extra paperwork."

"Do you want it? I wouldn't mind."

And, there it was, just for a moment Cho's mask slipped and Lisbon saw him battle with the urge to covet what wasn't his. The war lasted just a fraction of a second, and then his control was back.

"No. It's yours. Besides, Elise is getting me one for Christmas and she made me promise not to buy one before then. Not for nothing Boss, but that's a really thoughtful gift right there. There are a hundred books on it that everyone should read and you never have to worry about losing them or storing them some place. You know, Van Pelt read us a story from the _Times _online today about the ninety-two year old in Africa who started school for the first time a year ago. I'm just saying there are people in the world who would give their left arm for the kind of access you have right now to those books, to those words."

It was the longest and most passionate speech she'd ever heard Cho give. Not surprisingly it centered on literature. It was as common to see Cho with a book as it was rare to see him smile.

* * *

Back in the present Lisbon chuckled to herself as she poured Jane's water. Poor Cho, he'd been waiting months now for an E-Reader of his very own. She glanced at the magnetic calendar on her fridge. It was just a few weeks till Christmas. Cho's agonizing wait would soon be over. She truly hoped Elise kept her word.

Lisbon mused on how right Cho had been as she walked back up stairs to the bedroom. She wasn't completely finished all one hundred books-truth be told some of them didn't take her fancy in the least-but she was learning as she went. Lisbon would never admit it to Jane, but she got more of his references now, and she also thought that she was becoming a better detective for all her reading. There was something universal about the classics, they taught you about human nature and she felt like maybe those stories were helping her better understand the criminals and victims she dealt with daily.

None of this made _The Communist Manifesto_ or _The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire_ scintillating reads in her opinion, but she did force herself to finish them in between the collected works of Jane Austen. One dreary historical tome and then one fantastic romp through Regency England with Mr. Darcy. That was a fair trade.

Lisbon kicked the bedroom door open and did her best to strut, while nude, over to the bed. However, Jane seemed more concerned with the water glass she was carrying than her naked form. He swallowed the pill and the water in one gulp, before levering up and out of the bed.

"Where are you going in such a hurry?" she asked.

"I spent the night doing shots and just drank a huge glass of water. Where do you think I'm going?" he called from the bathroom.

Lisbon laughed as she heard the toilet seat whack against the tank followed by a low groan of satisfaction from Jane. It seemed the Universal Post-Inebriation Urination Hypothesis-formulated during her college years-still held true. In layman's terms the first pee after a long night of drinking is the best pee ever. Several moments later

Jane ambled back into the bedroom and collapsed on the bed.

"Better?" she asked.

"Much."

"Okay, I'm going to get ready for work. You get some rest. I won't even blow dry my hair in deference to your hang over."

"You truly are saint like."

"One of us has to be," she said as a parting shot and walked to her closet in search of work clothes.

"Do I have any clean clothes here?" he asked while watching her dress.

"You do. There's a suit in a dry cleaning bag in my closet. But, you're not going to need it right? You're going to stay here and sleep it off till I come home."

"Yeah, no of course, I was just thinking in case of an emergency. What if a priority case comes up or something?"

_Or if I have to go meet May Nelson and Minnelli without telling you my reasons why, because I intend to tell you everything about everything later and hope to hell you don't run away. You know- whichever._

Jane had checked his cell phone in the bathroom and had found a text from May indicating that she would meet him at noon. He suspected his suit from the night before was probably covered in some amount of vomit and he couldn't very well show up for their meeting in his boxers. What he had to discuss with her was already embarrassing enough.

Jane watched Lisbon putter around and concocted a plan for his day. Once Lisbon was gone he'd get a little more sleep and then he'd shower and dress. A cab might be needed in order to retrieve the Citroen. That gave him pause. His wallet, he'd need his wallet. God help him if it was in his lost suit jacket. But, no, he thought on it, his wallet was always with his phone. The phone was in his soiled vest from the night before, and therefore his wallet would be as well. So, he'd get the car, get May, take her for a nice lunch at that fancy café by the river and lure Minelli there as well. Then he'd come back here, get back in bed and pretend like nothing untoward had occurred while Lisbon was at work.

Wait no, the Citroen, she'd see it parked in front of her condo. He could drop it off, then get a cab back over, or-no, fuck it- he'd leave the car where she could see it. If his courage didn't fail him she'd know by the end of the night where he'd gone and why, so it didn't matter anyway.

"Okay, I'm leaving. You have a quiet day."

Lisbon was now fully clothed and standing before him with brief case in hand.

"What? Yeah. You too." He'd been momentarily confused, lost in his own thoughts and plans.

Lisbon bent over to give him what was intended to be a quick peck on the lips, but Jane was having none of it. If everything went according to plan, and he told her his truths tonight, he may not get another chance to kiss her again. This one had to count. He pulled the brief case from her grasp and tumbled her onto the bed while kissing her passionately. Lisbon was surprised to say the least, but responded eagerly.

"Till later then," he said when they finally broke apart.

Her eyes were glazed and her words took a few seconds to cross her tongue.

"Yeah…later. You're pretty eager for a man with a monumental hang over."

"Meh." Jane shrugged and let her up from the bed.

She straightened her rumpled clothes, grabbed her brief case and gave him one last quick kiss. "Now you rest. I mean it."

Jane gave her a salute as she left the bedroom, and he listened to her foot steps until they disappeared out the door. Then he rolled over face first into her pillow and inhaled as much of her scent as possible. He dearly hoped this wouldn't be the last morning he spent in Lisbon's bed.

* * *

By a quarter to twelve Jane was speeding through mid-day traffic on the way to retrieve May Nelson from her office.

Scratch that, he was about to pick up Dr. May Nelson from her family practice clinic in the heart of Old Town Sacramento. Jane disliked physicians on principle, but the fact May Nelson was a former alcoholic made her tolerable. So, much for self-righteousness, _doctor heal thyself_ indeed, Jane thought. He'd discovered her profession from the case paperwork, and while he'd been somewhat surprised to find out she was a white coat, in the end it had made sense. Plus, Jane was rarely surprised by people, and so the ones who got the jump on him fell into one of two categories, infuriating or endearing. May was endearing.

The last time Jane had been forced to sit down and share his feelings with a doctor, one who turned out to be a murderer no less, it hadn't gone well. But, Dr. Nelson's clay feet were big enough to take the edge off his venom. He knew she was damaged, but also not damaged enough to kill-always a plus when you plan on opening up to a physician for real instead of regaling them with Johnny Cash's life story.

Jane parked outside the posh, private clinic where Dr. Nelson made her living and debated whether or not he'd collect her in person. For once in his life he passed up the opportunity to make a scene and simply sent her a text explaining that he was outside waiting. No need to make the nurses restless. Of course the truth of the matter was the closer he got to May in person, the scarier what he was about to do became.

_See the man with the stage fright,__  
__Just standin' up there to give it all his might.__  
__He got caught in the spotlight,__  
__But when we get to the end__  
__He wants to start all over again._

_Now if he says that he's afraid,__  
__Take him at his word.__  
__And for the price that the poor boy has paid,__  
__He gets to sing just like a bird, oh, ooh ooh ooh.__  
_

Five minutes later May exited her clinic to find Patrick Jane leaning against an impressive vintage vehicle, the wind playing with his golden curls while a pair of James Dean shades perched insolently on his nose. She knew the nursing staff was currently pressed up against any available window gaping at the GQ like picture her handsome "lunch date" made. No doubt a few of them thought her callous to be walking out with another man so soon after Bernard's death. More of them were silently cheering her on and operating on the assumption that Dr. Nelson had finally got her shit together and decided to upgrade. If only they knew how much of the man before them was just for show, and how empty all his glamour really was.

Patrick Jane had fooled her once, made her believe he was just another drunk looking for help, but she'd done her research since. Thirty minutes with Google and she knew all about his past career as a faux-psychic, Red John and the tragic loss of Jane's wife and child to the serial killer's merciless hand. He wasn't a drunk, but he had the same desperate way about him as any other addict. _Takes one to know one_, she thought while waving to Jane.

"Nice car," she said by way of greeting.

"Thanks," he said and opened the passenger side door while assisting her into the car like the gentleman he was pretending to be.

Inside the clinic six women in scrubs let out sighs and squeals completely oblivious to how little a pretty face can really deliver in the end.

"So," she started once Jane had maneuvered the Citroen out of the parking lot. "Are you going to tell me why I'm really here?"

"What?" His eyebrows above the shades were arched with surprise and she suspected his hidden eyes were filled with just as much shock.

She stared out the window and took a deep breath. "Agent Rigsby called me this morning to give me the details about Bernard's case and to ask me to testify when the time came. I mentioned your text to him and he got quite a kick out of it. Apparently you were in the cups pretty hard last night and I should probably, in Agent Rigsby's opinion, disregard anything you said."

"Is there actually anything new to tell about Bernard's case or are you just really bad at asking women out?"

Jane's eyebrows took a final leap into his hairline. "This isn't a date, I mean, I'm not…"

"No, I didn't think it was. So, why don't you tell me what this is?"

Jane focused solely on the road. "I'm hungry. Are you hungry? I'm also parched. Hangovers are mostly dehydration you know. How about lunch at the pier?"

Disbelief and frustration passed over May's face briefly, but she shook it off. "Sure. I could eat. But, remember Mr. Jane once we sit down at that table there's no where to run, and as we learn in Alcoholic Anonymous avoidance leads to stagnation."

"Right. Avoidance, stagnation, no where to run, duly noted doctor."

* * *

Once May and Jane had been seated at the café and their drink orders where taken it was time to get down to business. At least, that was May's opinion.

"Okay, we're here and we're lunching, what's going on Patrick?"

Jane's response was to slurp up-in a loud and obnoxious manner- the dregs of his second glass of water in five minutes. He arched an eyebrow at the doctor across from him and sucked in his cheeks even further.

May rolled her eyes and let out a long suffering sigh. She could do this. She managed addicts for Christ sake. "Look Patrick, I don't know if you noticed, but I'm a physician. My time is valuable. I'm hungry so I'll stay till my lunch is served, but if you don't get to point soon I'm going to dine and dash."

Jane pulled the straw from his mouth and held his now empty glass up to a passing waiter indicating he needed another refill, and then he turned back to his dining companion. "I just wanted to talk to you, because, well, because, that thing you said yesterday really stuck with me."

"What thing?"

"The thing about how a person shouldn't let their addictions rule their life. You said doing so meant missing out on everything good that the world has to offer."

"Well, that's a bastardization to say the least, but yes, I'd agree with the general thrust of that argument."

"Bastardization", "general thrust", there it was the smarty pants attitude every doctor possessed. Jane hated not being the only, and best, rhetorician in the room. Still, who better to counsel him then someone he accepted as, if not a complete intellectual equal, than a very close second.

"Right, well, the thing is I could really use some advice regarding not letting addictions interfere with the enjoyment of life and seeing as you're my 'sponsor' I thought maybe you could help."

May considered his request. "I'm not actually your sponsor Patrick, because you're not an alcoholic. Not to the best of my knowledge anyway. Do you have any other addictions I should know about?"

News reels full of blood pulled from the internet just moments before his arrival ran through her mind. The words and images meshed with the grief stricken narrative she'd heard him give in a church basement just twenty-four hours ago.

Jane ruminated on her question. Did he have any other addictions? Oh yes, and obsessions not to mention heaps of grief, regret and second thoughts. But, how much should be revealed? What to say?

_Your brow is sweatin' and your mouth gets dry,__  
__Fancy people go driftin' by.__  
__The moment of truth is right at hand,__  
__Just one more nightmare you can stand._

"No, I don't have any other addictions…the advice I'm looking for isn't exactly for me, it's uh, for a friend." It wasn't a total lie. He did partly ask her here to meet Minelli and to ascertain what, if anything she could do for Lisbon's former supervisor. "I have this friend see, and he, well-

"Jesus Christ." The curse was murmured under her breath, but Jane could hear real and present anger in May's voice. "Patrick do you know how often I fear that line? I've got a friend? You and every other addict I've broken first ground with. Seriously, it's time to cut the bullshit or I'm taking my lunch to go and hailing a cab. I've got real patients to see today."

"Okay! Okay!" he cried and peered around to make sure no one could overhear their conversation. "First of all, I do have a friend with an alcohol problem, honest. If you don't get up and walk away you'll meet him in about forty-five minutes. But, before that I've got a problem of my own I was hoping you could help me address, as a physician and an addictions counselor."

May rubbed her temples. "I'm going to meet someone else in forty-five minutes? Patrick did you not hear anything I said about patients and time management?"

"I did, and I understand I really do. But, it would mean a lot to me and everyone at the CBI if you'd meet my friend. He used to work with us, he ran our division actually. And now, he's retired, but not for the right reasons and he's burying all his good work in drink. I'm not lying, I am really concerned for him and if you would just talk to him about the program I know I, and Agent Lisbon, would be grateful."

"Fine, Patrick, fine. I guess I owe the CBI one for capturing Layla and putting that quack Wilder out of business. Let me just contact my office so they know I'll be out for the afternoon." May began punching buttons on her Blackberry. "They all think I'm out on some romantic rendezvous so it won't come as much of a surprise if I beg off work for a few hours."

She tapped at the screen and scowled while rearranging her schedule to suit someone else's needs as usual. Such was the life of a doctor. "Lucky for you I'm my own boss. Now in the interest of efficiency can we please get to whatever crisis it is you're facing personally?"

Jane swallowed and shored up his courage. May was willing to go out of her way to help him, and the least he could do was be compliant. "When you asked me to talk about my addiction problem yesterday in the group session I wasn't completely honest."

"No kidding."

"Wow, an attitude like that no wonder Bernard kept drinking. Are you really a successful sponsor?"

"Very. Tough love is still love Patrick. And we both know Bernard was weak. I loved him, but he was weak and addicted to more than just alcohol. Now get to the point."

"Alright, alright…I was using the group to further our investigation into Bernard's death, but I was also telling you the truth, sort of."

May sensed Jane was finally coming clean, so she decided to as well. "I know."

"You do?"

"When you dangled that sobriety chip in front of me and then accused me of killing Bernard I figured out that your sob story had all been part of the investigation. But, experience tells me that acting like a complete ass is part and parcel of being damaged. I decided to find out for myself just what your damage is Patrick. Thirty minutes on Google and my trusty side kick," she waved the Blackberry back and forth, "told me all I needed to know about your past. So, you can skip the back story, I'm already caught up. But, I assume that kind of trauma has its ramifications, so why don't you tell me what it is that's troubling you?"

Jane gaped at her. Laying out a person's life story and getting a dig in as well was his shtick. Dr. Nelson was a formidable opponent indeed.

He cleared his throat and began. "If you know my back story then you know a serial killer called Red John killed my family."

She nodded.

"Perhaps you even connected the dots far enough to infer that I joined the CBI for the purpose of capturing Red John."

"I'd considered that, yes."

"What you may not know however, is just how mutual the obsession between Red John and I has become. He's intent on destroying my life, on prolonging my suffering, and I am just as adamant about ending his life. Do you understand?"

"I'm beginning to."

"Good. As you can imagine being involved in a game of cat and mouse with a serial killer is not overly conducive to living a normal life."

"I can't imagine what it's like at all, but I'll take your word for it."

"Recently, in a misguided attempt to try and live my life independent of Red John, and also to unmask a so-called psychic as a fraud, I asked a woman-the psychic- on a date. Red John then kidnapped her and left her so psychologically damaged she believes herself to be dead and will probably reside in a mental institution for many years to come."

Jane's terrible soliloquy was barely finished when a waiter arrived with their lunch. May made the appropriate thankful noises and waved the man away quickly.

"I'm incredibly sorry to hear that Patrick. Those are quite the insurmountable odds to be up against," she said once the waiter was again out of earshot.

Jane chuckled darkly. "They are. And, you'd think I'd have learned my lesson the first time, and then the second, but I find myself once again rebelling and trying to live a normal life despite the odds."

May took a bite of her meal before speaking. "How so?"

Jane pushed his food around. His hangover was protesting against the idea of food as he tried to explain himself to a total stranger. Hooray for sunglasses. Now he knew why that mean spirited fashion editor wore them all the time. It was easier to say difficult things when your eyes were concealed.

"I'm seeing someone again, and obviously, I'm very worried about her safety. I'm also forced to hide a lot of my inner workings and dealings from her because when it comes to Red John the less she knows of, and is exposed to, our gruesome game the better."

"I see. Well, I completely understand your concern after what you've told me. But, you do work with law enforcement Patrick. I've met your colleagues, and they definitely care for your well-being, so why not ask them for assistance? Surely Agent Lisbon would do everything in her power to help you protect this woman you're involved with."

Jane had to pull his shades off at that comment. He smiled ruefully and scrubbed his face with his hands. "Oh May, May, May… never has one person been so wrong and so right at the same time."

She peered into his now exposed face and tried to understand his meaning. "I'm not sure I follow?"

He allowed her one brief glance into his eyes and thus, his soul, before slipping the sunglasses back on.

"Oh, I see now," she said softly. "Agent Lisbon is the woman you're involved with."

"Yes."

"But then, my point stands, and more the better for it. Agent Lisbon is a seasoned cop. She knows the risks your life is full of and she no doubt understands them. Why don't you, I don't know, I really don't know how law enforcement works, pool your resources? Why are you keeping things about your interactions with Red John from her and from the CBI for that matter? Aren't they trying to capture him as well?"

Jane sipped more water from his abused straw. "There in lies the rub good doctor. My intention is to kill Red John. To end his life the way he ended my wife and child's, in violence. Agent Lisbon, as you can imagine is not exactly thrilled with that idea. Trying to pretend like I don't notice the divergence, or that I'm not working actively against her better judgment is causing some, well, very real problems in our relationship."

"She's threatened to leave you?"

"No-not that. Not yet."

"You feel guilty about leading her on. I mean Jesus Patrick, if she falls in love with you and you with her, and then you kill-

Jane cut her off. "That's a piece of it, but not the reason I came to you."

May looked as exasperated as Jane felt. "Then why did you come to me Patrick? What can you possibly expect me to help you with? This is a horror story. Serial killers are way beyond my training. I'm a physician not a miracle worker."

Jane could tell if he didn't act fast he'd lose her. She looked appropriately frightened and aghast after hearing his, as she put it, "horror story". There was no way to know if his next statement would overwhelm or relieve her.

"The problem is, I can't…wow this is hard. I've told you why I'm lying to Agent Lisbon, but I can't tell you what about, and I don't think right now you really want to know anyway. All you need to know, and what I need your help with, is, well, we can't, that is to say Agent Lisbon and I, more specifically myself-

"No, I don't think I want to know more. I'll meet your friend, but please no more"

Jane reached out and took one of her hands. "May I'm begging you, please, bear with me. Do it for Bernard, if not for me. You said…you said your relationship with Bernard was never complete, never physical because of his addiction, because he let it stop him from experiencing his life fully. I'm asking you to help me do what he couldn't."

"Okay."

Jane tore off his sunglasses again just so she could see how sincere he was. "Every time Lisbon and I try to make love, I can't and it's not her, it's me, I know it is. I just, if I take that step, it's like you said, I'm drawing her down further into my world, putting her at risk, and probably failing her in the end. I can't give up Red John May, I can't, but I love Teresa. I really do, I promise you, and if you could just tell me what to say, what to do, what you wish Bernard had done, maybe I can reconcile the two different directions I'm being pulled in."

May stared at him with shell shocked eyes. "Are you telling me you're impotent and you suspect your guilt and fears about Red John are the underlying cause?"

"I guess so. I mean, yes, that's it."

Afterwards, and for years to come Dr. May Nelson would swear on everything she held holy that she had never meant to react the way she did to those words. She knew the loud shriek of laughter that passed her lips was not at all what a man suffering from Jane's particular problem wanted, or needed to hear.

"I'm sorry!" May cried and grasped both his hands before Jane had time to get up and stomp away like she feared. "I'm just being emotional, I'm sorry I didn't mean it. But, this is one of those if I don't laugh I'll cry scenarios. What you've said it reminds me of Bernard and myself, and I miss him so much."

"S'okay." Jane wondered how he had become the comforter in this situation, but he went with it.

"Okay, okay, let's deal with this." May said and pulled her hands back to flap them around her face. Jane had seen countless women perform this fluttering task and he had yet to ascertain if it actually prevented tears from being spilled. "I'm going to ask you some question okay? The same questions I'd ask any patient with the same concerns so don't get offended alright?"

Jane nodded and braced for the firing squad.

"How old are you?"

He felt that one despite his mental prep. "Forty…two."

"Really? Well, you look great for your age, so that's a plus. And, are you active, physically?"

"Yeah, I guess. I mean you're not going to catch me in a gym, but I run, surf and swim-regularly. That counts right?"

"Of course it does. And, is that all?" May asked, while surveying his form.

"I'll admit to some push ups and crunches but that's it."

May smiled. "I thought as much. Do you experience any shortness of breath or fatigue when you carry out these activities?"

"No more than the average man in his forties I imagine. Stuff gets a little harder to carry around if you know what I mean."

"I do. Any pain at all when you exercise?"

"Just the usual aches and pains."

"And, none of these aches and pains originates in your groin area?"

"Nope."

"Okay, what about prostate exams? Had any? A man your age should have by now."

"Are you suggesting I bend over now?"

"Patrick if you're not going to take this seriously there's not much I can do for you."

"Okay, look how about I just hurry things along? Yes to the prostate exam. No, they didn't find anything amiss. I'm still able to pitch tents every morning if you follow my drift. It's just adding Lisbon to the equation that throws things off."

"You're capable of masturbating?"

"Since I was eleven."

"Then I think you're right. The problem sounds psychological as opposed to physical. Our mind can have a profound effect on our body."

"Do you think if I shared my misgivings about our relationship, and the things I've been hiding from her with Lisbon it would change our dynamic?"

May looked thoughtful for a moment and then sighed. "It might. No, it certainly would change things. The question is how it would change things."

Jane pictured Lisbon's face turning red and steam emanating from her ears followed by a loud bang.

"There's a lot of potential for anger," he said.

"There's also a lot of potential for healing," May countered. "Patrick, can I tell you what I see when I look at you?"

"Nothing's stopping you."

May leaned forward and measured her words carefully. "I see a man drowning in guilt and shame. You probably think both emotions amount to the same thing, but they don't. Guilt is feeling like you did something wrong, like you made a mistake. Shame is feeling like _you _are wrong, that you're fundamentally a mistake."

"My experience working with addicts has taught me that people often turn to substance abuse because they feel heaps of both guilt and shame. However, shame is the more dominant, underlying problem which leads them to commit acts they feel guilty about such as drinking."

"Some people channel their shame in the opposite direction. They become perfectionists. But, this perfectionism is not an inward act. It's outward. The patient seeks to present a flawless image to the world, an image that suggests they are completely in control, and incredibly capable. Physical appearance is quite important to these people."

May paused to give Jane, and his immaculate suit a once over. "Sound like anyone you know?"

"Sounds like everyone I know," Jane replied.

"It is an incredibly common phenomenon. However, most people don't let the need to appear perfect dominate their lives. Perfectionists also tend to view any personal inadequacy as a failing. When that's the wrong way to view our short comings."

"Inadequacy is what makes us human Patrick. Why do you think we invented Gods when we first climbed out of the goo? Because even then we were well aware that to be human is to be flawed. Only supernatural beings can be perfect. Imperfection is what tethers us to one another. It is what connects us across all human cultures and belief systems."

"The need to belong, to be accepted and loved, that's coded into us. I could show you hundreds of genetic and neurobiology studies that suggest we need to feel connected, based on our common failings, to our fellow man. The idea that being busy and beautiful and never wrong in anyway equals success is a very recent one, and it's actually based on collective shame, not joy."

"Are you telling me I should be proud of my, uh, love problems? Or that my loud mouth got my family killed?"

"No, like I said guilt is okay, it suggests you can feel empathy. The first sign a person is not quite right in the head is when they can't feel guilt if they hurt someone else or do something wrong. But shame, all pervasive shame, is a different ball game all together."

"The fact you feel guilt about what happened to your family, and hiding things from Agent Lisbon tells me you're fundamentally a good man Patrick. You probably think that you and Red John are pretty evenly matched, or that you're opposite ends of the same coin, but I'm here to tell you that's not the case. Serial killers don't feel guilt. They can't empathize, because if they did they wouldn't be able to kill. Sure, Red John might be a very shame filled creature at base. Obviously something twisted him into what he is now. What I'm telling you Patrick is that while I think you feel more than your share of shame, the fact you can still feel guilt tells me you're not like Red John at all, you're not beyond repair."

Jane wanted to cry, he wanted to scream and he also wanted to thank May Nelson, but he couldn't do any of those things. All of her pretty words couldn't erase Red John, or change reality.

"I appreciate the effort Dr. Nelson, and trust me it's good to know someone besides Lisbon thinks I'm not rotten to the core. But, me accepting myself, or whatever you're suggesting, won't change Red John, or my resolve to kill him. I owe my family his death."

"Why?" May asked. "Because they loved you unconditionally? Don't you think Agent Lisbon feels the same way? What do you owe her?"

"I know what I owe her okay! And, that's why I never should have started up with her in the first place. It's why I can't, I can't finalize things between us-

"Sex isn't love Patrick," May said cutting him off. "Do you think Lisbon isn't already in for a penny in for a pound even without sex? Do you believe she loves you?"

"Yes."

"And do you love her?"

"Against every rational thought I have, yes, I do, very much."

"Well," May let that utterance hang in the air between them for several beats before continuing. "You asked me what I would have liked Bernard to do or say, and so I'm going to tell you. I wish he had let me love him. I wish he had believed he was worthy of my love, and I wish he could have dealt with his shame so that we could have moved past his guilt."

"I think you need to have a very serious discussion with Agent Lisbon, not only about whatever it is you're withholding from her about Red John, but more importantly about what we've discussed here today. That's what I would have wanted from Bernard, what I still want to be honest."

Jane ran a hand through his hair and let out puff of breath. "Dr. Nelson, you are something else. I've got to say, it's kind of hard to believe a person like you ever succumbed to alcoholism."

May gave him a shaky smile. "Thanks, but I know all about shame Patrick because I've lived it. I'll admit I wasn't always this emotionally perceptive, and when I started med school I had no intention of turning to the drink."

"What changed you?" Jane asked.

"During third year I accepted a date with a surgical resident. He was a big deal at John Hopkins, and I was flattered he even noticed me. I was a wreck with nerves the whole date, constantly trying to impress him. I wanted him to like me because I thought he was so above me in every way."

"I didn't fight back at the end of the night when he raped me in the back seat of his car, and I never told anyone at school or the police, because I thought he was so smart, handsome and gifted at medicine that he couldn't possibly have done something wrong. I figured I must have consented in some way or brought it on myself. I felt the shame he wouldn't acknowledge and it buried me for six years afterward. I got perfect grades, and I became an excellent doctor, but I drank like a fish just to feel something besides ashamed."

Jane thought about Minelli and how the older man had reacted to the death of Boscoe and his team. Minelli felt responsible for that. He left the CBI because the slaughter happened on his watch. Jane wondered how much shame and guilt Minelli was trying to get away from every time he crawled into a bottle.

Then, as if Jane's very thoughts had conjured up the man himself, Minelli was standing just several feet away waving at his former consultant. Jane's eyes bugged a little behind his shades and he wondered how to negotiate Minelli into May's company while simultaneously liberating himself from the situation without seeming rude or ungrateful. Winging it generally worked for Jane, so he went with it.

"May, thank you for sharing that terrible secret with me, for everything you've said here today really," Jane said while shifting about for an appropriate exit. "I wish I had more time, more words to tell you how grateful I am, but that man over there waving at us, he's my friend I told you about, and you're going to have to let me go back to being the perfect me for the next few minutes."

May looked around distractedly before focusing on Jane once more. "But, wait, Patrick I really think treatment would benefit you greatly. At least say you'll make an appointment to see me again."

'I'll call you," Jane promised and took another slug of water before jumping up to greet Minelli. The look on her face arrested him momentarily and he delayed his hasty exit. "You'll like Virgil. He's a stand up guy. Think of this as the do over you won't get with Bernard."

"He's single too," Jane added with a wink before tearing off across the sand towards Minelli.

* * *

"Virgil," Jane said, greeting his former boss.

"Patrick," Minelli answered and held up a folded piece of paper. "I got it. LeRoche's suspect list. Took some heavy leaning and back room dealings, but I got it."

Jane reached for the proffered list, but Minelli drew it back at the last second. "I meant what I said yesterday Patrick. Lisbon needs to know about this and she needs to be okay with it. I'm not giving this to you unless you promise not to cause havoc with it."

"I wouldn't have been able to promise you that yesterday Virgil, but I think today I can safely say I'll do my best not to use this information maliciously. I can't promise there won't be any havoc caused, especially not personal chaos."

This small measure of honesty seemed to be sincere and novel enough for Minelli. He pushed the paper into Jane's hand. "Here, make good use of it. I hope you catch the bastard after what he did to Boscoe. So, uh, who's your lunch date?"

Jane swiveled around to follow Minelli's gaze which had landed on May.

"She's not my lunch date," Jane said. "She's your lunch date."

"My lunch date?"

"Yeah. Her name is May. Dr. May Nelson. She's really nice and I know for a fact you both have a lot, well something, in common."

Minielli made a speculative face. He didn't seem opposed to the introduction at all.

"Really?" He asked and took another appreciative look at May.

"Yeah, totally," Jane said and clapped Minelli on the shoulder. "You just might wanna consider growing a beard though. Do me one more favor? Drive her back to Old Town."

With those cryptic words Jane left Minelli and Dr. Nelson to their destinies and walked off down the riverside. He stopped only long enough to ruin a sea gull's day by chasing it mercilessly.

* * *

Jane made his way back to the Citroen, but not before stopping to pay the tab for his table including Minelli's meal. Then he sat in his car and stared at LaRoche's suspect list for several moments. Jane smoothed the paper against the steering wheel and came to a crushing conclusion. J.J. LaRoche was no Sherlock Holmes. The fact Jane and Rigsby were even present on the list suggested it would be of little use to him. All the subterfuge he'd resorted to in the past few days and what had it amounted to? He now possessed little more than absolute proof that J.J. LaRoche was an unimaginative investigator.

May was right. It was time he spoke to Lisbon, time they pooled their resources. Going it on his own wasn't getting Jane any closer to Red John, and it was pushing away the one good thing in his miserable existence.

Lisbon.

She was going to be angry with him once he confessed all his sins to her. But, he had to trust her to love him just like May said, and also believe that, sordid past or not, he was worthy of that love. He couldn't yet fathom relinquishing his ultimate goal of killing Red John, but he was ready to share his side investigation, and his demons with Lisbon. Together they might be able to successfully negotiate both problems.

Jane stuffed the note into his vest pocket next to his phone and started the Citroen. He'd go back to Lisbon's condo and wait for her there, but he wasn't going to get back in bed or undress again. The couch would do as a resting spot for his now raging hangover, and it was best not to be nude when discussing major relationship issues. He didn't want their talk to become a battle, but he also knew if she was the only one wearing pants Lisbon would naturally have the upper hand. No, it wouldn't do to disrobe and pretend he'd gone no where today. Instead they'd have a frank discussion with their clothes on, then universe willing, Lisbon wouldn't toss him out on his ass and they could do anything but talk, preferably with their clothes off.

_See the man with the stage fright__  
__Just standin' up there to give it all his might.__  
__And he got caught in the spotlight,__  
__But when we get to the end__  
__He wants to start all over again._

_TBC…_


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I own nothing. CBS owns _The Mentalist_, FOX owns _Bones_ and MTV is responsible for the seventh sign of the Apocalypse known as _Jersey Shore_. Lyrics are from the incomparable Hawksley Workman's "You Are Too Beautiful (To be in bed with me)" from his album Treeful of Starling. Canada has incredible musicians (Who are the Arcade Fire? Better musicians, and that's what the Grammy's should be about, than Justin Bieber-that's who). So please, Google Hawksley and throw out your Nickelback CD's because we're actually embarrassed about foisting them on the world up here in Canuckistan. Rant over.

A/N: I realized only a week ago I was calling Todd Johnson, Todd Brock, so let's all make like George Dubbya and pretend screw ups don't happen and agree to collective forgetfulness.

My laptop is still somewhere in America being repaired (or used as a door stop by guys who look like the entire cast of The Big Bang Theory) so my updating will continue to be patchy. This chapter is double the length of usual to make up for that, so please enjoy and bear with me during the technical difficulties. Also, there is smut at the end kids so I'm changing the rating to M and well, I guess be forewarned. But, if you've already got this on story alert there's probably not much I can do and honestly, I read my mom's romance novels when I was 13 so what can I say to you? Except that, if you're 13 and reading your mom's romance novels, please know real love and real sex is nothing like those books and having sex forced on you, even by a man who looks like Fabio is rape, and always use a condom.

Lastly, this is dedicated to Yaba and her amazing accomplishments. Chin up! You did awesome! And I threw in the shore, because you know how bad my taste is!

World Your Rock Tonight

Chapter 4

_I walked through the airport alone  
I looked at my phone 'cause it keeps me company  
I called you as I hired the car  
to ask you "how far is it there from you to me?"  
and I wrote directions on the back of an old magazine._

_But you are too beautiful to be in bed with me  
yeah you are too beautiful to be in bed with me  
if you could see the thoughts I see  
if you could see my thoughts baby you'd agree…_

When Jane arrived back at Lisbon's condo it was early afternoon. He foraged about her cupboards for something that would constitute nourishment, but also not inflame his hangover further. Experience told him something greasy was best for curing hangovers, but Lisbon was not a greasy food sort of person, and Jane suspected that French fries stopped working their morning after magic once a body passed thirty. He'd recently rolled past forty so he settled on oatmeal and tea. With a passing thought for how the mighty had fallen Jane ate his porridge and then finished his tea before going in search of the toothbrush he'd used the night before. There was something about being hung over that leaves your mouth feeling like a shag carpet no matter how much water you consume.

His toothbrush was upstairs and so was Lisbon's bed. Jane had come home with every intention of relaxing on the couch in the living room until Lisbon returned, but now the bed looked very welcoming. Eating had given him a satiated feeling, and being out all morning had exhausted his limited, post-whiskey, resources. He really needed a nap.

He was also very aware of the fact that after tonight he might never get another chance to sleep in Lisbon's bed. Jane deliberated the matter for only seconds before starting to undress. It wasn't like Lisbon was going to fly in the door looking for a heart to heart. As far as she knew he'd been here, asleep, all day. She'd want to settle in, eat her dinner, do normal things, and it was probably best he let her do that before he dropped emotional bombs on her.

Figuring he'd have more than enough time to literally redress before the figurative redressing would begin, Jane shucked off everything but his boxers and fell into the bed.

* * *

"Hey."

Jane's eyes popped open at the sound of Lisbon's voice. As his vision adjusted he noticed that the bedroom was no longer engulfed in afternoon sunlight. Instead, it was dark, as it had been since six p.m. when Lisbon left the office, another sign that winter was upon them. Jane quickly tried to rustle up a response to her greeting, but his mind was still stuck in the hazy world between sleep and wakefulness.

If he'd been more alert he might have noticed the object she carried in her hands as she rounded the bed and sat with her back to him before turning on a lamp. As it was his gaze only registered the fact she was clutching his vest in one hand, and a piece of paper in the other.

"What the hell is this?" she asked and waved the paper back and forth without turning around.

Jane stared at the back of her suit jacket and felt icy cold dread slide down his back. He couldn't be sure if it was the fear, or the fact he was still nude save for his boxers that made him shiver. He knew she expected an answer, but weighing his options was taking longer than anticipated.

Lisbon for her part seemed to have no shortage of words.

"I thought it was weird when I came home and saw the Citroen in the parking lot. But, I thought, you know, let it be, maybe he went out for antacid or some other hang over remedy. I even ignored the voice in my head crying out, you've got antacid in the bathroom!"

Jane still wasn't making any moves towards explanation so Lisbon continued her one-sided conversation. "I was still determined not to think the worst of you even when I came up here and found your suit, which has obviously been worn, tossed all over the floor."

She got up from the bed and started to pace. "I only picked up your vest because I wanted to fold up your suit before it wrinkled. I decided on the way upstairs I wasn't going to start something over the fact you left the house today when I distinctly told you not to, because hey, you're an adult, and we're together and I'm trying to be cool about this. I've been making an effort, for you, ever since we started this to not be so suspicious, to actively trust you and to not constantly question your motivations and your actions like I did before we started…trying."

"And what do I get for it Jane?" she asked while holding LaRoche's list out like a supplication to an undeserving god. "I was folding your vest, when everything just spilled out of that stupid fob pocket. Fuck's sake Jane it's not meant to hold that much. Everything came out, and I tried not look at the paper, I really did. But, it had my name on it. It has my name on it, your name, Rigsby, Hightower…what is it Jane and where did you get?"

She flung the list onto the snarl of blankets beside him and stood at the end of the bed, hands on hips, looking exactly how she did in the early days when he needed scolding.

The last time Jane had seen her so angry, she'd been berating him about not caring enough about his own life, and the feelings of the people around him. Moments later he'd shot a man dead for her. Something told him tonight he was going to commit an act equally irrational but necessary, and hopefully just as redemptive, by telling her the truth.

He started slowly however, so slow his reply was just one word. "Minelli," he said while sitting up against the pillows and wrapping his arms around his knees.

Lisbon stared at him expectantly and chewed on her bottom lip. "Minelli! Minelli what Jane? What does Virgil have to do with any of this?"

He dropped his face into his hands and pushed his thumbs through troubled brows. "I went out today to see Minelli," he mumbled into his knees.

"You what?" she screamed and then recoiled at the sound of her own voice. She was flying off the handle and she knew it. There might be a reasonable explanation for his outing with Minelli, but then, what about the list?

Lisbon sank onto the edge of the bed and ran a hand through her hair. For the second time that day Jane watched a women try to hold back tears by waving at her face.

"I'm sorry," Lisbon murmured and turned around to face him. "But, this is what you do to me Patrick."

The use of his first name was like a bullet to the heart. Jane knew she didn't mean to hurt him, she was trying to explain her momentary loss of control, but it knocked the wind out of him all the same. It was the equivalent of a child hearing, 'I'm not mad at you I'm just disappointed in you', from a much beloved parent.

"When we started this thing between us I had to work to convince myself that you weren't just trying to get one up on Walter. Then, I had to deal with the sex issue, or rather the no sex issue. And, the whole time in between I've been trying so hard to believe that if I trusted you, showed you that our private time wouldn't be like at work where I'm constantly on the look out for your next shenanigan, things would change between us and you'd be able to relax enough for us to be together, really together."

"Instead, I find this," she said and grabbed the list up from the tangled sheets. "I don't know what it is, but I know it's something. There has to be something Jane. Otherwise I wouldn't feel like we're walking on egg shells every time things get intimate."

Jane sighed and held his hands out towards her. "Lisbon, Teresa, come here. Just come here and we'll talk about it."

"No," she spat childishly. "Tell me what this is first. Tell me what it is and why I'm on it and what it has to do with Minelli."

"I will, just, please, come over here and let's talk rationally."

"Are you implying I'm being irrational?"

Lisbon knew she sounded like a reject from a chick flick as soon as the words left her mouth, but she didn't care. She was angry and frustrated and well within her rights in her own mind.

"No!" Jane quickly back-pedaled, "not at all. Okay, Teresa you've got every reason to be angry, I get it, and not just because of this list. It is a list by the way, and I'll explain how I got it if you'll just relax…"

"Relax!" she screamed and jumped to her feet once again. "You want me to relax Jane? How do you propose I do that and still maintain a relationship with you?"

"Relax?" she said it again, equally as incredulous as the first time. "Neither of us can relax Jane! Why do you think this is, for all intents and purposes, a dry relationship? You need trust to relax Jane and obviously we don't have it."

Jane fell back against the bed and pressed his palms into his eyes. No matter how hard Lisbon made this he was going to soldier on, for the both of them. "It's LaRoche's suspect list," he said from his prone position. The bedclothes were somewhere around his ankles now, and he was lying outstretched and practically naked in front of her. He thought it was only fitting.

"Say again," she said, unsure that what she'd heard was real.

He sat up again and forced her to look him in the eye while he spoke. "It's LaRoche's list of possible suspects for Todd Johnson's murder. Minelli got it for me. I knew you'd be mad that I went behind your back to get it, so I, well, failed to mention it."

She snorted derisively and shook her head. "So that's it, that's where we still are. You're the errant school boy and I'm the wicked school marm."

"Well, for what it's worth that doesn't sound too bad at all, sounds kind of sexy actually," Jane said, trying for levity. He gave her a suggestive look before continuing. "Feel free to punish me."

Lisbon gave him a long look and he could tell there was an internal war going on inside her mind. Jane figured she was trying to decide whether or not to allow his humor to defuse the situation, but that was not it at all. She was actually trying to judge if her next words were entirely too cruel to utter, or if they were so necessary it didn't matter.

"Funny," she offered tersely, "but we both know that particular kind of punishment would be useless due to lack of follow through."

That stung more than he cared to admit, but Jane shook it off as best he could and proceed as planned. He got up from the bed slowly and approached her like a he was member of the bomb squad and she was about to blow. "Okay, I hear that you're frustrated and I get why, so-

"Frustrated?" she said plaintively. "Jane I'm tired! I'm tired of having to look over my shoulder and make sure you're not doing something that will endanger yourself, the team and our relationship. It's exhausting! I'm tired of being your task master and your guardian angel. Patrick… I want to get off the pedestal you've built for me and get underneath you! Don't you get it? I'm sick of being your supervisor! I want to be your lover! Why can't you trust me enough to make that happen?"

_But you are too beautiful to be in bed with me  
yeah you are too beautiful to be in bed with me  
if you could see the thoughts I see  
if you could see my thoughts baby you'd agree_

Mirthless laughter was Jane's only response. The crazy part was if he stopped here and promised her fidelity, truth and open ended communication and enough of a preamble to explain the letter they could probably continue on, but as a functional couple. Problem was he couldn't let the rest slide. The poem Red John quoted, the connection to Johnson, the handgun hidden in his so-called fortress of solitude in the attic…everything, she had to know it all.

"Tersesa, Teresa, Teresa, you have no idea how happy I am to hear that," he said, moving towards her. She fought him for a few seconds but he managed to wrap his arms around her and she relented by pressing her face into his neck. Jane dropped a quick kiss into her hair before continuing. "But, you might not feel the same enthusiasm for becoming my lover once you hear what I have to tell you."

"Then don't," she mumbled with defeat into his shoulder. "Please, let's just be happy."

"Do you think that's possible with the way things are between us right now?"

He felt her head move back and forth as she shook her head to say no silently.

"Then we have to sit down, and we both have to be brave. I've got to be honest and you have to control your temper. Deal?"

"Deal," she said and looked up at him with tired eyes.

He backed them both up until he felt the edge of the bed against his knees. Then he turned around and deposited her on the bed.

"I'm just gonna put on some clothes," he said panning around for his trousers and shirt.

"Why?" Lisbon asked.

He stopped gathering his clothes up to look at her. The answer to that question should have been fairly obvious, but upon inspection he could see that she was slightly dazed from her outburst. He hoped she could hang on for the rest of the conversation. She'd said she was exhausted and seeing her now, hair askew and eyes empty he wondered if she really wasn't ready to know how duped she'd been. May's earlier warning about the dangers of leading Lisbon on floated through his head, and he pressed on.

"This isn't exactly the kind of conversation I want to have in my underwear. Unless you want to even the playing field and show me what's underneath that business suit of yours."

"Put your pants on Jane."

"Will do," he said and pulled on the pants he'd abandoned on the floor earlier. He threw on his dress shirt but only buttoned it up half ways before returning to the edge of the bed to sit next to Lisbon.

"So, this," he reached for the list which was still balled in her clenched hand, "is, as I said, LaRoche's suspect list for Todd Johnson's murder."

She nodded and released the paper into his custody. Jane used the opportunity to slide his free hand into hers. He squeezed her palm before continuing. "I asked Minelli to get it for me because as of right now Red John has no idea that I discovered a connection between him and Johnson."

Lisbon's eyes widened and took on the cat like look of cunning he usually saw her display at crime scenes. "What do you mean there's a connection between Johnson and Red John? How do you know? How long have you known?"

She moved to stand up but Jane used her captured hand to pull her back down. "Temper Lisbon, temper. We agreed to control ourselves remember?"

"Tell me Jane. Right now."

"You remember when Red John's followers kidnapped me?"

"Yes."

"Well, when the man himself showed up he shared some words of wisdom with me just before you rode in to the rescue."

"And you kept it to yourself?" she asked incredulously. This time Lisbon did get to her feet and when Jane tried to restrain her she shook him off. "No, let me up. If I'm going to hear this and stay calm I want, I need, to walk around okay?"

She paced for a few seconds before turning abruptly and kicking the plush chair she kept by the window. "I don't know why I'm surprised. This is you we're talking about. Fuck! Jane, do you know what you've done? You've knowingly impeded an investigation. Forget the damage it might do to us, you might have compromised our case against Red John!"

She turned to face him. "You really have no intention of letting the CBI capture him do you?"

Jane figured honesty was best, even if it was painful. "No. I mean, I didn't, at the time, and I, I still…I can't see any other way Lisbon. I know that may not be negotiable between us. If you won't be with me if I don't give up the Red John then I'll have to work on that because I want to be with you, I really do. But you have to understand, right now, I still want his blood."

Lisbon decided to let that lay for the moment. "Tell me what he said. Why does it make you think there's a connection to Johnson?"

Jane swallowed and looked at the floor. "When I was tied up Red John quoted a poem to me. William Blake's _The Tyger_. Just before he died Todd managed to choke out a few lines of the same poem. I don't really believe in coincidence Lisbon. Todd was dying and he made it a point to ensure I heard those words."

"That just means he knows of Red John. Maybe he was one his fans or supporters like the film students. There's no evidence Red John considered Todd his tool, or colleague, or that they knew each other personally."

"No not all, except for the fact someone lit the man on fire while inside the CBI! Come on Lisbon you can do better than that."

She rubbed her face and collapsed into the chair by the window. "So, you think what? That Red John was pissed at Todd for revealing himself to you so he set him on fire? How would Red John even know that Todd quoted the poem to you?"

Jane turned to face her. "He wouldn't, but it doesn't matter. Red John kills his tools or has them killed once they're captured or they talk to the police. Remember Jared Renfrew? Todd was a risk Red John wasn't willing to take once he'd been brought in for questioning. No honor among thieves and such."

"But then who set Todd on fire? Are you saying Red John was inside CBI Headquarters? Right under our noses? Jane I can't imagine he'd risk it. He killed Bosco when you were out of building. He wouldn't risk you recognizing something about him, a gesture, a phrasing, a slip of the tongue, not now, not after you've seen him, even if it was just his eyes."

Jane took a deep breath and considered her argument. She wasn't wrong. Just because he didn't know what Red John's face looked like didn't mean he couldn't sniff the killer out in close quarters. He'd done the same to strangers on countless cases.

"I don't know. I, like you, doubt Red John would attempt to enter the CBI while you and I were in residence. But, I've always maintained that he must have someone working for him on the inside. Someone who works at the CBI, someone who works with us, and that someone could have set the fire."

The puzzle pieces started to fall into place for Lisbon. "And, that's why you wanted the suspect list. Because whoever LaRoche is investigating is potentially Red John's mole."

"Yes."

Lisbon thought back to the list she'd just read over several times. "Do you honestly think any of the people on that list are connected to Red John?"

"No, but that doesn't change the fact that someone set Todd on fire and that someone knows Red John."

"And you expect what? To flush that person out and make them lead you to Red John? How were you planning on accomplishing that?"

She'd given him a segue without even trying. "I'm not sure. One step at a time you know? But worst comes to worst, and you're really not going to like this, I find guns, despite my distaste for them are very persuasive and I happen to be in possession of one now."

Lisbon flew out of the chair and stood over him. "What do you mean you have a gun? Since when?"

"Sit down here, next to me and be calm and I'll tell you."

"Go fuck yourself."

"I deserved that, but the offer stands. You hear me out or you hear nothing."

"Fine," Lisbon snarled and sat next to him. She gripped the edge of the bed in an effort to contain her anger and Jane watched as her knuckles began slowly turning white.

"Does the name Max Winter ring a bell?"

Lisbon's mind instantly conjured up the man who had claimed to be Jane's complete opposite, a man at peace with his wife's murder. "How could I forget Mr. I'm-So-At-Peace-I-Emptied-A-Clip-Into-The-Corpse-Of-The-Man-Who-Killed-My-Wife?"

"Yeah, ol' Max loves his guns," Jane said. "After we clued up the case he sent me a present; a gun of my very own."

She tensed to jump again and Jane gripped her thigh. "Stay where you are. How we deal with this determines how we move forward."

Lisbon gritted her teeth and returned the favor. She tore her hand from the bed and placed it on Jane's thigh. Her grip was tight enough to draw blood as her nails dug into his pants. "Where's the gun Jane?"

Jane bit his lip against the pain and used his thumb to rub circles on the inside of her thigh. "It's under the floor boards in my attic. There's a loose one under my writing table."

"And, right next to it are all the notes I've made about the significance of Blake's poem and what it might mean to Red John and every other thought I've had about him since Kristina's disappearance."

"I see."

Jane turned to look at her, and Lisbon craned her neck to meet his gaze. They were side by side on the edge of the bed, his left arm crossed over her right, each gripping the other's leg. His touch was soothing (he hoped), but hers was still sharply painful and meant to procure answers. He mapped out her face with his eyes and settled on her mouth. The fact he was still acutely aware of the bed beneath them, and the ever present urge he got to kiss Lisbon whenever they were trapped in a confined space together was making itself known proved that despite the animosity between them right now he hadn't lied to May. He really did love Lisbon, even it was an inconvenience.

Lisbon swallowed audibly and returned Jane's beseeching gaze with a look that was equal parts anger and lust. "Why are you telling me all of this now?" she asked.

Her grip on his thigh became impossibly tighter.

Jane didn't look away and he didn't flinch from the pain either. "Because you need to know. Because we can't continue a relationship where I hide things and you stick your head in the sand for the sake of keeping us together. Because when I saw that list this afternoon I knew it was useless and if the investigation into Red John is ever going to amount to anything we need to work together, you and me."

"You and me?" she asked. "What about the team?"

"This isn't about the team."

"So, what you mean is we need work together, but ultimately towards your selfish goal."

"No. Well, maybe, I don't know. All I know is I can't keep you and my goal separate anymore. I saw someone else today Lisbon. I saw May Nelson."

She withdrew her hand from his leg with surprise. "May Nelson? Why?"

Jane didn't remove his hand from her thigh. He simply began stroking it back and forth while he spoke. "You know how I uh, went undercover to an A.A. meeting?"

"Yeah."

A tiny wisp of a smile crossed Lisbon's lips at the memory. Jane had never offered to go undercover before. Field work was a necessary evil in his world so the whole team had been shocked when he'd gone freely, and not under orders, to the support group Bernard Ripple frequented.

"Afterward May said something to me that really stuck with me given our, uh, situation."

"What was that?"

"She said that she and Bernard never managed to have a real, fulfilling relationship because he let his addictions rule his life. He used them to smother his pain, but all they did was shut him off to the potential pleasure in life."

Lisbon snorted and raised an ironic eyebrow. "Sounds familiar."

"That's what she said, but you know more words and less facetiousness."

"Are you sure-

"Yes, Lisbon, I'm using the right word. How many times do I have to tell you facetious means humorous? It denotes levity, not skepticism."

"Quit stalling Jane and finish your story."

"You brought it up!"

"I will kick you in the shins. You know that."

"Fine," Jane said and fell back on the bed, leaving his legs to dangle over the end. He clasped his hands together on his chest and stared at the ceiling.

"I went to May because I figured she had some experience dealing with broken men both professionally and personally. I thought, her being a doctor and all, maybe she could help me out with you know, the problem."

Lisbon twisted around to look at him. "The problem? Oh, you mean the fact that lying to me all time means you lose your nerve every time you try to fuck me? Right, that problem."

"Is this how it's gonna be Lisbon? I'll keep trying and you'll keep hiding behind sarcasm?" he asked and started to sit up.

"Jane, wait," Lisbon said and pushed him back down. She maneuvered herself around until she was lying next to him on her side. One hand propped up her head and the other covered his where they lay on his chest.

"Let's get something straight okay?" she said while peering down at him. "I'm doing my very best not to just be done with all of this, with us, with you…do you understand?"

He said nothing so she continued. "Believe me, I'm glad you're finally sharing with me, but given the level of your deceit I think we can agree that sarcasm is better than a full on banishment from my home…yes?"

Jane stared at his chest where their hands were locked. She was right. Anyone else, any other self-respecting woman, who didn't know him quite as well as his Lisbon would have kicked him out by now. The lack of sex was bad enough, but to know it stemmed from the presence of huge lies she'd suspected existed, but tried to downplay, was worse. Playing the ostrich made her part of the problem, but only a tiny part. Jane knew now that he'd offered her no other role to play in their relationship.

"Yes," he agreed.

"Good. Continue."

"May and I, we talked about Bernard, and you, well, I guess you and me. I told her why I hide things from you, and she told me not to, and then Minelli showed up."

"And then Minelli showed up? That's all you've got Jane? You are the man who can talk even when no one's listening. That was the shortest 'story' I've ever heard you tell."

Jane wrinkled his nose. "And that's the first time I've ever seen you use air quotes. One handed no less. Really Lisbon, I know we agreed you could be passive aggressive to your heart's content, but air quotes?"

She rolled her eyes and sighed. "Okay, fine, for serious, why do you lie to me Jane? Because you know I care, you know I won't betray you."

"I lie to you to keep you safe."

"Jane…" she was exasperated, they'd been over this a hundred times before; when Dr. Sophie came to town, while trapped in a box in Mexico, during the Hardy/Dumar fiasco and every big and small reference to Red John in between. "How many times do I have to tell you that I, and the team, am fully prepared for whatever danger we face? We might not always surmount it Jane, but we expect it. We're cops. That's what to serve and protect means. When you accept the badge you accept the risks."

He freed one hand from her grasp and used it to cup her face. "Doesn't matter Teresa. This isn't about the big picture. It's about you and me. I got the love of my life killed because I was reckless. I won't repeat the same mistake twice. I work alone because if Red John ever sensed you were as invested in the hunt as I am, he'd take you and he'd hurt you. I understand that your job is risky, but I won't let you die just because a mad man wants to ensure that my life is a waking hell."

Lisbon thought about disputing this, but decided not to break Jane's train of thought. He was in a confessional state of mind and she didn't want to interrupt him.

"Sometimes," he started again and she could see that he was trying to control his emotions. "Sometimes you remind so much of Angie it hurts."

She almost drew back at this statement. It was both a compliment and an expression of her deepest fear; that she wasn't loved individually and singularly, but instead residually, as a stand in for another who was lost.

He seemed to sense her conflicted reaction. "That's not a bad thing Lisbon. I never, I never expected to be loved. Not by you and not by Angie." It was time to drag the past out into the light and let it shrivel up and die. "I was raised to believe love was an illusion and that only marks indulged in it. Love was for people who wanted to be taken advantage of. Never kid yourself Lisbon, now, or later, even if we survive this, I'm not, I wasn't a good person. I was a con man to the core. I stole, I lied and I didn't care, I thought the world was made up of two kinds of people; the drones who played by the rules and the chosen few like myself who saw human interaction for what it really was, a constant struggle for power. I was determined to be on the winning side of every deal whatever it took."

"Then I met Angie. Our caravan joined her family's show when I was sixteen. They were more financially successful. Her grandparents were carnie royalty, they had rides, infrastructure, profit, some respectability I guess, if you think carnies can command respect. We literally hitched our fortunes to their wagons. Angie was fourteen and she loved me. There was really nothing more complicated about it than that. Fourteen year old girls aren't capable of complex love. She saw a pretty face and built a redeeming back story around it, around me. The thing was, with time, and trust me a lot of missteps on my part, and a lot of tears on Angie's, I started to change, for her. I wanted to be the man she thought she loved. Because, no one had ever loved me like that; unconditionally and without question. She made me believe in the good in this world, and in return I gave her what she wanted most, a way out of the carnie life."

He rubbed his thumb along her cheek before continuing. "Don't get me wrong you're different from her. This isn't some twisted attempt at substitution on my part. Angie…was a princess. Her kingdom wasn't much to spit at, but it was hers and she was worshipped. That's why she was so kind, and for the kid of carnies, a little naïve. But, she was loved is my point and that love made her a good person, better than the rest of us in her tiny world. So, she wanted out, and I loved her so I got her out. But you, Teresa," Jane stopped and chuckled as visions of Lisbon tackling two hundred pound perps floated into his mind. "I wouldn't dare call you a princess."

"No, but it might be nice to be treated like royalty once in a while," Lisbon mumbled, and if Jane didn't know better he would have sworn her eyes were starting to swim.

Jane smiled and squeezed her hand. "I know. I also know I'm not winning any 'Best Boyfriend of the Year' awards any time soon, but that's my point. You love me despite that and, please don't punch me for saying this, but you always have, I know it, and trust me Lisbon that first day I clapped eyes on you I knew I was in trouble."

Lisbon's mouth was hanging open in disbelief. She didn't punch, but she did swat. "I didn't love you! Not until…." She trailed off once she realized her last statement was tantamount to saying, I love you now. "…recently."

Jane grabbed her slapping hand held it captive. "So you do love me hey?" he asked while pulling her arm, and subsequently her entire person closer to him.

Lisbon braced herself against his tugging insistence with her free hand. She suspended herself above him, their faces inches apart. "You love me too so what does it matter?"

"Do I now?"

"You said so last night."

"Lisbon I don't know if you noticed, but I was very drunk last night. Anything I may or may not have said should be disregarded."

"You weren't drunk after you finished throwing up," she stated and then drew her bottom lip in coquettishly; a move she'd known for some time would draw Jane's gaze and cloud his mind with off limits possibilities. He might have guessed she'd loved him from the start, but his reaction to her one well honed flirtation tactic had taught her within days of knowing him that he liked the idea of it all despite himself. She'd never expected that line to be crossed, but she had reveled in knowing something about her struck chords in his private self. "Plus, you gave yourself away long before that."

Jane raised his eyebrows. Having her pressed against him was delightful, and ending this whole thing with some heavy petting would be even better, but now she'd made an issue of this love thing, and concession wasn't an option. "Do tell Agent Lisbon."

She kept her front teeth firmly secured in her bottom lip, but her mouth spread into a smile. "When I was trapped with that bomb in the Harrington house…I could hear it in your voice. You were frightened. More frightened than when I found you wrapped up in all that cellophane."

His grip on her wrist tightened as memories of that day washed over him. He'd abandoned the case, gone back to the office for a nap because dealing with Visualize irked him and then somehow, out of the blue, Lisbon's life was in danger. Not because of Jane, not because of Red John, but because of some cuckolded old crank's pseudo-bomb that seemed terrifyingly real at the time. It had been like living a nightmare. Jane was sure for the first thirty seconds of the conversation with Lisbon that he wasn't even awake. Then he heard Lisbon screaming at the child, and the small, scared voice of a little girl shrieking back and reality had slapped him in the face. He'd told her to run, take the girl and run, he didn't want to play this guessing game anymore. It wasn't fun, it was devastating and too close to home. A woman he loved and a small girl with death lingering close by. He'd seen it before and it had broken him, if it had happened again that day he would never recover. Not even with the help of ten Sophies.

"Is that it? That all you've got?" he asked and managed to keep his voice steady.

"No," she said, her smirk still firmly in place. She wasn't aware that bringing up her brush with death had caused such inner turmoil on Jane's part. "You shot Hardy for me."

If she'd worded it any other way he might have been able to let it pass. He could have ran with it and made himself out to be a knight in pin stripped armor or pointed out that he'd have done the same for Cho, Rigsby and Van Pelt. But, it was those last two words, "for me" that made him see red, or more specifically Red John.

Jane pushed Lisbon off his chest and sat up. He ignored her yelp of surprise and ran a hand through his hair and tried to tamp down the anger welling inside him. It would be counterproductive to attack her verbally, and he could hear May, the voice of reason in his head, screaming at him not to, but the temptation was great and he wasn't sure he could win this battle.

"Jane? Patrick?"

She was now perched on her knees behind him and he felt her hands run up his back before they gripped his shoulders. Her thumbs began to massage at his neck, her way of soothing his shifting mood. "Patrick what's wrong? What happened just now?"

"Well, I uh, I realized you think it's an act of love when I kill for you, but it's a crime that I want to do the same thing for my wife."

The words hung over them like the proverbial sword and Jane knew he may have just damaged things between him and Lisbon irreparably. He felt her hands tense and for a quick second he feared a blow was about to descend, but instead he felt her shrink away from him.

"It's not the same," she whispered and he didn't need to turn around to know the tears that had threatened earlier were now falling freely. "It's not the same," she said again and he heard her sniffle.

He should have stopped then. He wanted to stop then, but there it was the guilt and shame May had warned him about, rearing its ugly head and urging him down the path of least resistance and greatest self-destruction.

"No, it's not the same," he said and stood up from the bed. He found his suit jacket and put it on. "It's not the same because she was my wife and the mother of my child. He killed my child Lisbon. You can't know what it's like to outlive your own child, to be responsible for their death. By your own logic I killed a man for you because I love you, but you won't let me do the same thing for Angie? For Charlotte?"

Lisbon watched him, dumbstruck through the whole monologue, as his voice rose and he struggled into his jacket. It occurred to her that he might just walk out when he was done. He might leave and end whatever was left between them. He'd take the gun, the notes and his grisly ambitions and walk out of her life, and spend what was left of his chasing Red John alone.

How did they go from painful reconciliation and barbs about who loved whom more to this? Had the last hour been a sham, another act to quiet her suspicions and gently lead her round to his way of thinking? If it was an act it was clearly one he could no longer sustain, and Lisbon was angry with herself for even needing to consider the possibility of ulterior motives. But there in lay the major stumbling block in their relationship; with Jane there would always be ulterior motives. She decided then and there to take a gamble. The worst case scenario meant she walked away with her dignity and made Jane well aware that she would not let him pull the wool over her eyes any longer. The best case scenario was her next action would call his bluff. She momentarily considered tears and a choked out, 'Why are you being so cruel?'

But, using tears as leverage was a move reserved for weaker women than Lisbon. So, she went with, "You're right Jane. This, us, it is different, but apparently it's still not enough to compete with the ghosts of your past. So, leave, get out, and let's stop this now."

"What?"

He was staring at her wide eyed. This wasn't how he'd wanted tonight to play out. Yeah, he'd said something terrible, but that was par for course in their interactions. Jane would push her to the limit and then some, and Lisbon would still rein him in, soothe his nerves and ultimately, forgive him. It was their thing; at least, it was their thing.

"You heard me. Just go. You were all geared up to walk out of here just now, so do it." she said breezily as she got up off the bed. She pulled off her suit jacket and tugged an elastic through her hair securing it in a high ponytail.

Jane watched her every move waiting for the punch line, or whatever had to be coming besides this cold dismissal.

She looked up and feigned surprise that he was still standing there. "Go on Jane. And, it's not your fault really. Your offer to try was sweet, but way outside your comfort zone. I should have known you weren't ready for a relationship. You probably won't ever be. Not while Red John's still in the picture. This was my mistake."

That's when the panic set in. It always felt like this when he was faced with losing her, and it spurred him into foolhardy, decisive action each time. The last time he'd reckoned with this emotion Hardy wound up dead, and he'd let the hunt for Red John slip further through his fingers. Now he was considering relinquishing the quest all together. He'd say anything, promise anything to keep her. But, he knew that she didn't want to hear another lie, and if he renounced Red John right now he'd be lying. It was time to choose the truth.

"It's not your fault. It's mine," he said. "I didn't mean what I said just now Lisbon…Teresa…please believe me. I said it because I was angry and because my natural inclination is to destroy anything good that happens to me. And you're the best thing that's happened to me since Angie and Charlotte died."

She crossed her arms and regarded him warily. "Then why are you so determined to fuck things up between us?"

_if you could see the thoughts I see  
if you could see my thoughts  
if you could see my thoughts baby then you'd agree_

_'cause you are too beautiful to be in bed with me  
'cause you are too beautiful to be in bed with me_

He walked towards her and placed his hands on her elbows. He pushed slightly and she allowed herself to be propelled backwards until she was once again forced to sit on the bed. Jane sank to his knees in front of her and gripped her legs lightly. He looked up at her like he was seeking and benediction.

"Because I can't reconcile how much you love me with how completely unworthy I am of that love."

"Jane…"

"Let me finish," he said and swallowed hard. He thought of May and then of Bernard. Poor bastard wound up dying alone, in a Santa suit at the mercy of his demons. His death had been pathetic and needless. It smacked of futility and shame and depression. Jane realized in that moment that Bernard Ripple had been a defeated man. He'd let the addiction win instead of being strong and fighting it off with May. If he let his life go the way of Bernard's Red John would win. "I feel… I feel guilty all the time."

"I feel guilty that I caused the death of my family. I feel guilty for conning all those people, I feel guilty for lying to you and team about Red John because it might get you all killed someday, but most of all I feel guilty that you love me and it gives me pleasure."

"Patrick, don't say that, you deserve-

"No, I don't Lisbon. They're dead and I'm here and every time I touch you I forget a little more, for a little longer that I'm supposed to be miserable, that's my punishment for setting his wrath on them. I'm supposed to be miserable and then I'm supposed to kill him Lisbon, that's my fate and my redemption."

She smiled at him, but a tear rolled down her cheek betraying her true feelings. "You don't believe in fate or God so what's with all this talk about inevitability and redemption?"

She ran a hand through his curls and tugged a little at the base of his neck forcing him to look up at her. "You're a good man Patrick. I don't care about the con, that's just HR. You found a niche and filled it. You're a good man who had something tragic happen to him. It's wasn't your fault. Killing someone's family because they insulted you isn't an acceptable response. Just like civilians taking justice into their own hands isn't okay. The first mistake is irreversible, Angie and Charlotte are gone and nothing will change that. The second mistake is still preventable. You have to stop feeding his fire Jane, you have to stop letting him drag you down into his madness."

He shut his eyes and took a deep breath while leaning back into her touch. "I will," he mumbled.

"Jane…that's so easy to say, it's harder-

"No!" he opened his eyes and gripped her thighs tighter. "I will. Fuck him Lisbon. Okay? Fuck him. He killed my wife and my baby. He's not taking you too. He wants me miserable and beaten? Too bad. I'm going to be so fucking happy it'll kill him. Starting now."

Jane lunged upwards in search of a less than perfect kiss. His urgency and Lisbon's surprise meant their first attempt ended in little more than clashing teeth. This stumbling block was quickly overcome as Lisbon took the lead and repositioned Jane's head using the hand that was still buried in the curls at the nape of his neck. It occurred to her that perhaps kissing their way out of this argument was not the best tactic for long term reconciliation but it felt right. They'd covered so much ground tonight, and gone nearly to the brink of their relationship and it was time to pull back, to take a break or else they'd fall over an uncertain edge. She wasn't ready to jump off that cliff. Not until she knew exactly what they were going to land in.

Still, she pulled back momentarily in order to give Jane the chance to slow things down, consider his actions. He might not be ready for this yet, for them yet. "Jane?"

His eyes were closed and he was still nipping at her lips quickly as she tried to speak.

"Jane?" She tried again, and this time gave into the urge to kiss his cheek and chin in between. "Jane. Maybe. We. Shouldn't. Do. This." Each word was punctuated with another kiss.

"Why not?" he mumbled before returning to her mouth.

Lisbon was about to answer his question with well-meaning arguments when she felt Jane's tongue sweep across her bottom lip. Opening her mouth to offer him counter points turned into opening her mouth to meet his questing tongue with her own. She allowed herself to get lost in the kiss for several seconds before pulling back again.

"I don't know Jane," she said pushing him back so that their lips came apart with a smacking pop. "This might not be a good idea just now."

Jane fought the urge to roll his eyes. He knew Lisbon wanted this as much as he did and now it was his turn to play the bluff master.

"Maybe you're right," he said and made a pensive face.

"Really?" Lisbon asked with more disappointment than relief.

Jane smiled at her reaction. "No not really. I think," he said and moved in for another kiss. "That what we're doing is very healthy and normal all things considered."

Lisbon didn't speak but she did draw back and give him a raised eyebrow.

"Really Teresa, this is good, this is normal. Real couples they fight and they make up and they have make up sex. Despite appearances this is the most normal thing we've done as a couple, since, well, ever. I say we go for it."

"Kay," Lisbon said and allowed herself to be pushed back on the bed. She scooted to the middle of the bed while simultaneously tugging off her suit jacket.

Jane followed her example and shucked his jacket onto the floor before clamoring onto the bed after her. He pressed his body against hers, pushing her into the mattress with his hips. Wary of crushing her too much, he used his arms to brace himself above her. Lisbon didn't seem to mind the weight and quickly wrapped a leg around his waist in welcome. She placed her hands on his cheeks and pulled him in for another kiss, but Jane held back and simply brushed his nose against hers.

"Hi," he murmured while fixing her with his gaze. He placed a feather light kiss on her cheek before continuing. "It's nice to meet you like this."

Jane paused to trail a line of kisses down her jaw. "I can't wait to know you."

His last words were spoken softly and directly into her ear. The combination of heartfelt meaning and his warm breath against the shell of her ear drove Lisbon momentarily wild and she rolled her hips against his before drawing him in for another kiss.

She knew that his statement implied sex but she wasn't going to worry about if they made it there tonight. They had already advanced their relationship by talking through some emotional roadblocks. If the physical ones weren't bypassed tonight they'd still be okay in the morning. For now she'd focus on enjoying herself; and on enjoying the feel of Jane's curls between her fingers, the masculine weight of him pushing against her, the hard lines of his shoulders and chest…the very obvious erection pressing against her hip?

Lisbon's eyes popped open mid-kiss and she looked about the room frantically. Jane seemed oblivious to the situation below his belt and she didn't want to break the languid spell that had befallen him. His eyes were closed and he was kissing her in a relaxed, not at all fearful for his performance sort of way. Not wanting to tilt the equilibrium Lisbon kept her eyes opened, but relaxed back into the kiss while stealthily moving her left hand down his body. First she gripped his shoulder and gave it a perfunctory squeeze before pulling her hand away to trail down his ribcage. So far so good, Jane didn't seem to think anything of her wandering hand, in fact he gave all signs of enjoying her little foray. She veered off course just a little to give his butt a quick squeeze, and with an encouraging moan from Jane she brought her hand around to the front of his crotch.

"Patrick," she said softy. "I don't want to alarm you, but guess who decided to come out and play?"

She cupped his erection and gave it a quick rub for good measure, because Irish girls are always taught that being affectionate towards stone like objects brings good luck, and Jane was certainly full of blarney. The low moan Jane gave in response to her actions was encouraging, but the way he relinquished her mouth to bury his face in her neck before going completely still was not.

"Are you okay?" she asked. "It's okay you know, this is good, and we don't have to do anything serious tonight, and-

"I'm fine Teresa," Jane said into her neck. "I'm just kind of scared."

"Scared?"

"Yeah, don't get me wrong your hand feels great, but what if acknowledging our errant playmate makes him shy? At this point I'm afraid to look directly at it in case it's like the ground hog seeing his shadow."

Lisbon couldn't contain her laughter and she didn't have to as she felt Jane's own answering chuckle reverberate against her neck.

She wouldn't have made her next move if she wasn't sure this time was different. Jane was jovial and relaxed. Clearly their talk had lifted a weight from his shoulders and Lisbon was sure that this time he was up to the task, no pun intended. He'd just need some stewardship, and she could provide that.

"It'll be fine," she gave him a push and sat up, forcing him to roll onto his back. "You'll see."

Jane watched wordlessly as Lisbon reached for his belt and began to unfasten it. Once she'd gotten his pants unbuttoned and pulled the zipper down Lisbon motioned for Jane to lift his hips and he did so in a silent, grave manner. She made quick business of his pants and then eased her hands gently into his boxers.

Lisbon wrapped a hand around him and gave a few careful strokes. Jane's eyes closed for just a second but then his jaw went back to rigid and his face remained serious.

Lisbon felt the need to bring some levity back into the proceedings. "Houston, I think we have lift off," she said in a saucy voice and gave Jane a wink.

He managed to crack a smile. "You're not funny."

"But, you are hard. Yay!" she cried while doing jazz hands.

This elicited a snort of laughter from Jane and Lisbon took this as a good indication that if things were to continue apace he wouldn't go over the edge too soon.

"Alright, boxers off," she said and tugged a little on his underwear.

Jane once again raised his hips and allowed Lisbon to divest him of impediments. He was left with nothing but his dress shirt and Lisbon had an unobstructed view of the night's entertainment. She tossed his boxers aside and ran her hands up his thighs, stopping to scratch her nails into the place where his hips met his legs.

"Hi there," she said, mimicking his earlier statement while beginning to pump him steadily with her hand. "I'm glad we met like this," she addressed these words not to Jane, but his cock. "I can't wait to get to know you."

She looked up expecting to share a wicked grin and the joke with Jane, but he couldn't see her. His eyes were closed and his head was thrown back in tortured ecstasy. Lisbon watched as he bit his lip and swallowed hard. Yes, this would do nicely for a start indeed.

Still, she knew it was up to her to make this work, and time was of the essence so she reluctantly abandoned her post and stood up to undress.

Jane's eyes snapped open as soon as he felt Lisbon's grip loosen. He darted around until he saw her standing by the bed.

"What are you doing?" he asked unable to keep the whine out of his voice. He'd nearly screamed at her not to stop.

Lisbon smirked at his eagerness. It wasn't often she had Patrick Jane at her mercy.

"I'm getting undressed. We both have to be naked for this to work remember?"

Jane peered at her. He'd completely forgotten she was still fully clothed save for her suit jacket. He watched with great interest as Lisbon tore off her clothes. She was naked in under a minute and rummaging through the nightstand beside him.

"I ask again, what are you doing?"

"Here," she said and tossed the condom she'd been searching for at him. "Make yourself useful and put this on."

Jane caught the tiny foil square just as Lisbon returned to the bed and straddled him.

"Hold on Teresa," he said and used his free hand to grip her waist. "We don't have to rush this. You've done a really great job here, but I'd like to get in on the action. There hasn't exactly been any foreplay for you yet."

"Screw foreplay Jane, quit being a girl."

This time he gave out the silent eyebrow.

Lisbon rolled her eyes and struggled to explain. "I really appreciate the sentiment Patrick because trust me 99 percent of guys would have just flipped me over onto my back by now, but let's make tonight about getting it in. Forget foreplay, forget double orgasms, let's just make this happen."

"Get it in?" he asked. "You've been watching that MTV show about the mentally handicapped Italians again haven't you?"

"You know it J-Wow. Now let's smush."

"To quote you, dear Lisbon, as much as I appreciate the sentiment I'm still thinking we need a little you time here."

Lisbon took a deep breath and decided to bring out the big guns. She never knew how a man was going to react to this particular action, but Jane being the open minded and visually inclined person he was, gave her confidence to proceed.

"Don't worry," she said. "I'm on it."

Jane watched as she cupped her breasts and then slowly slid a hand down her chest and past her taunt stomach. His mouth went dry and the condom fell from his grasp when he realized where this little show was going. He didn't believe in angels but Jane could have sworn he heard a heavenly chorus when Lisbon started touching herself.

She closed her eyes and placed her free hand on his shoulder to act as an anchor for her work. She traced lazy circles around her clit before opening her eyes and giving him a Cheshire grin. "Do you like this?" she purred at him, "because I like this."

Jane wanted to answer in the affirmative, because he liked this very much. He liked it in his dreams, in his mid-afternoon couch fantasies and he really, really liked it up close, in person with real Technicolor. Unfortunately he couldn't seem to operate his eyes and mouth at the same time anymore. Right now someone would have to remind him to blink.

Lisbon leaned in to kiss his jaw while continuing her ministrations. "Did you say something Patrick?" she asked. "If you don't like it I can stop."

"No!"

That got him talking.

"I mean, I like it."

"Good," Lisbon said and nipped at his chin. "But, you know that condom's not going to jump out of the package and mount you itself. You're gonna have to do some of the work. My hands are kinda full."

"Right," he said never taking his eyes off her working hand. "The condom."

Jane patted down the bed futilely. After several bumbling seconds he felt the condom under his hand and thanked a God he didn't believe in.

"Are you going to be able to master that?" Lisbon asked.

Jane continued staring at her. The woman had to be a witch. How was she still coherent at this point? She was clearly enjoying herself. Her breath was coming in excited pants and she was making the most delicious noises he'd ever heard cross her lips. He'd never tried to hold a conversation while masturbating, but he was fairly certain that even his oratorical skills would fail him in that situation, yet here was Lisbon, cracking jokes.

A sense of competition took over him as it so often did when he and Lisbon sparred and Jane set himself to getting the condom on not only correctly, but quickly just to show her up. It was a good thing he had the steady hands of a practiced card cheat because once Lisbon moved off him to facilitate the condom mission she'd added a second hand to the mix.

"You're killing me here Lisbon," he said while putting on the condom with hands that were suffering from barely contained shakes.

"That's…hmmmm…the point," she panted back at him.

Jane secured the condom and let her get a little lost in her herself. The Big Bad Wolf inside him chuckled and murmured, 'All the better to catch you off guard with my dear'.

"C'mere Lisbon, I'm getting a little tired of sharing the sand box if you're just going to play by yourself," he said, pulling her into his lap and drawing her hands away from her body.

Lisbon watched as Jane drew one hand and then the other into his mouth and licked her fingers clean.

"Always my favorite flavor," he murmured before pulling her into a mind twisting kiss.

She could feel the hard length of him sandwiched between them, and she knew it was now or never. She reached between them and grasped him lightly.

She broke the kiss. "You ready?" she asked.

"So ready."

She placed a hand on his shoulder and pushed him back gently. "Then lie back."

"Lisbon-

"Don't fight me on this Patrick. Lie down."

He did as he was told, mostly because she literally had him by the short hairs, and also because at this point he'd do whatever it took to get inside her. Lisbon could sense his enthusiasm, but she still feared his demons and she knew this would be Jane's first time since his wife. He might not be able to see the possible pitfalls, but she could, and Lisbon was determined to see them both through to the end.

She waited until his head hit the pillow, then she very slowly and deliberately lowered onto his erection. Her gaze never left his for the duration, and it was a moment that would live in both their memories forever. Lisbon could tell from the look on his face that Jane was experiencing equal measures of ecstasy and panic. He let out a strangled, "Teresa", and she knew the guilt was setting in. He hadn't lied when he'd said he was so ready, but she knew he also wasn't thinking about the reality of this moment until right now.

"I, I want, you feel incredible, Lisbon but I can't, I don't deserve-

_if you could see the thoughts I see  
if you could see my thoughts  
if you could see the face i see  
if you could see my face  
if you could see my face_

"Yes you do Patrick, you deserve this, and you can do this, come on, just feel me," she said and started moving on top of him.

She placed a hand against his chest for leverage and brought her free hand back down to her clit. She'd employ whatever it took to goad him into full participation. For good measure she squeezed her walls around him with every downward thrust.

Jane moaned and twisted the bed sheets around his hands. Lisbon was beautiful inside and out. There was no other word for it, she was beautiful and she was doing her best to be his.

He knew he might always feel guilty that his wife and child were dead while he was alive and experiencing such unparalleled pleasure, but he needed to compartmentalize those emotions and separate them for the time being. His family was gone and they couldn't feel pain, jealousy or even happiness anymore. The only people who would be hurt by his actions tonight were he and Lisbon if he didn't come through and show her how much he loved her.

His decision made Jane relinquished his hold on the bed sheets and gripped her waist. The urge to actively thrust was to powerful for him to resist, and Lisbon threw her head back in triumph when she felt Jane start to move.

"That's it, that's it, Patrick just like that…"

Once Jane was able to see through the fog of his own pleasure he noticed Lisbon's tiny hand still working between them. He pushed her hand away and replaced it with his own, determined to bring her over the edge without assistance. Lisbon reacted enthusiastically to the change of pace and let her now free hand join the other on his chest. This gave her the freedom to move more quickly against him, and the new pace almost caused Jane to lose himself too soon, but he rode it out and focused on getting Lisbon off first.

He could tell she was close. She'd wound herself up so much during the pre-game show she had to be ready to blow. He sat up and brought Lisbon with him. The new angle had her moaning his name repeatedly and Jane wrapped one hand around her waist pulling her closer and deeper while using the other for leverage to thrust into her more forcefully.

He buried his face in her neck and willed himself not to come apart before she did.

Jane needn't have worried. Lisbon was enjoying the new position too much not to finish on a high note. She pulled his head up from her neck to engage him in a kiss and so that he could watch her finish. His reaction, she knew, would be worth it.

"I'm so close Patrick, so close…"she sighed between kisses.

"Tell me what you need, just tell me," he couldn't think of anything else to say, because he couldn't think period. The feel of her meeting him thrust for thrust made him delirious.

"You, I need you, just harder, give it to me, don't hold back."

He gave her what she asked for and was rewarded with the sight of her coming undone. Lisbon struggled to keep her eyes open as the waves of pleasure rushed over her. She'd never seen Jane look so happy and free and she feared missing out on such a singular experience. That thought lasted exactly five and half seconds, because if there was something hotter than watching Patrick Jane watching her cum, it was the sight of him going over the edge.

He'd held on long enough to save his manly pride and adhere to the age old principle of lady's first, but the spasms that rocked her body also wrung him out and she could tell he was struggling.

"It's okay Patrick," she murmured, "just let go."

She punctuated these words with the same sort of encouraging squeezes she'd given him to get things started and Jane's eyes widened in anticipation, but he still didn't stand down.

"Let it go Jane!" she ordered and pushed him back against the bed.

The "it" encompassed so much more than their shared love making and they both knew it.

Lisbon placed a hand on either side of his face and continued her slow squeezing torture.

It was too much, she was too much, and at the same time everything he needed. He couldn't hold back any longer.

Lisbon watched from above as Jane unraveled beneath her. He gave three more shallow thrusts before calling her name and coming to a shaking halt. She waited till his breathing slowed to an even pace and then she bent down to kiss his chest, his neck and finally his lips.

"You alright?" she asked.

A lazy smile spread across Jane's face. "I'm better than alright," he said and wrapped his arms around her tighter.

His mind was blank for the first time in a long time. It wasn't racing with future plots, or building castles filled with murder in the sky. He didn't feel tired, depressed, guilty, or much of anything besides sated elation. The past and the future weren't jostling for attention inside his brain, instead there was only this moment here and now. It felt good, it felt relaxing even.

He leaned in to give Lisbon one last kiss before rolling her off and breaking their connection. They both felt the loss when he slipped from her body and they quickly drew together for another kiss then Jane got up to dispose of the condom.

He returned to the bed yawning and Lisbon's smile grew even bigger. "So, Patrick Jane is human after all. You cum and then you sleep just like every other man."

Jane laughed and pulled her closer to settle on his chest. "I promise to remain awake at least another fifteen to twenty minutes if you wish to engage in the post-coital tradition women call, cuddling, and men call talking our ears off when we just want to bask in the after- glow and eat ice cream."

Lisbon furrowed her brow. "Ice cream?"

"I guess all men are different. I choose ice cream. I can't speak for everyone."

Lisbon sat up and brushed a rebellious curl off Jane's forehead. "Ice cream it is then," she said and got up from the bed.

"You don't have to bring me ice cream Lisbon, come back to bed."

"I will," she said as she left the bedroom naked, for the second time that day, "with ice cream."

* * *

Once Lisbon had retrieved the Ben & Jerry's Phish Food from its secret hiding place in back of her freezer (behind the Brussels sprouts and next to a bag full frozen peas, two things she counted on Jane never going near) she went in search of spoons. It was then that the microwave clock caught her eye.

"Amazing," she mumbled to herself. It was only 9:30 at night. They'd spent three hours arguing and making up for it. That meant it was still feasible to get a full night's sleep. She nearly ran up the stairs to tell Jane the good news.

But, Jane would never know, at least not until the morning. He'd lost his valiant battle against sleep shortly after she left the room. Lisbon smiled and dug into the ice cream carton. She didn't want to wake Jane if there was the possibility that on top of an orgasm he might achieve eight hours sleep. The latter was actually more of an anomaly for him. In fact, she didn't think he'd slept more than two hours at a time naturally, he'd told her they'd drugged him in Sophie's hospital, since his family died.

She slowly backed out of the room so he could sleep undisturbed for a bit. It was still early even by her standards and she settled on a shower and then clean pajamas straight from the dryer. She was sure the night couldn't get any better until she remembered that she had an unwatched episode of _Bones_ sitting around on her PVR, and maybe even an episode of the guilty pleasure she shared with Rigsby…_Jersey Shore_. Jane thought every person involved with that train wreck should be publicly executed, preferably by stake burning, but Rigsby could always be counted on for a post-episode break down. Better to watch it now when Jane was comatose than to have to bear the brunt of his ire later if he caught her watching it.

Lisbon queued up the episode of _Bones_ first and watched Brennan solve the murder of a young, female doctor with the help of a Jeffersonian security guard. Knowing that Jane wasn't there to poke fun at her she spoke to the television as often as she wanted to, pointing out the killer's identity (she always figured it out before the actors) and admonishing Brennan and Booth for their still platonic relationship.

"Come on! Hannah? Who the fuck is Hannah? If Jane and I can manage to do it, you guys can too! No excuses!"

When her shows and her ice cream were finished Lisbon quietly ascended the stairs and practically crawled into the bedroom; anything not to wake Jane. She had to know what his non-sleep deprived personality was like. Getting into the bed proved a little difficult because she didn't want to rock the mattress even a fraction of an inch, but she made it. Then she had to resist the temptation to touch Jane because he looked so peaceful, and downright beautiful while sleeping. Lisbon caught her hand seconds before it reached the curls at his temple and drew it back. She was on a winning streak that she didn't want to break; they'd had a meaningful discussion about their relationship and survived it, there'd been sex and ice cream and now she'd get to sleep before midnight without Jane attached to her like a lamprey fish. Life just didn't get any better than this.

_I write this song lovingly on  
an old girlfriend's guitar  
that she wants me to return  
on the 12th floor you took off your clothes  
New York in the snow and our bodies left to burn  
soft gentle rebel  
let the sun pierce the moments of spring._

_But you are too beautiful to be in bed with me  
yeah you are too beautiful to be in bed with me  
if you could see the thoughts I see  
if you could see my thoughts baby you'd agree…_

_if you could see the thoughts I see  
if you could see my thoughts  
if you could see my thoughts baby then you'd agree_

_'cause you are too beautiful to be in bed with me  
'cause you are too beautiful to be in bed with me_

_if you could see the thoughts I see  
if you could see my thoughts  
if you could see the face i see  
if you could see my face  
if you could see my face_

_TBC…_


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I own nothing related to The Mentalist. Not even downloaded episodes. Lyrics are from The Jesus and Mary Chain song "Head On" from the album _Automatic _and from Fiona Apple's "The First Taste" from the album _Tidal._

A/N: This is a short little segue way chapter for those of you who are still shell shocked by the finale. Here's some smutty goodness as a brief interlude before we get back to the more for real, real nature of this story. I'm virtually pouring you the stiff drink some people obviously needed after the finale.

World Your Rock

Chapter 5

_Full is not heavy as empty, not nearly my love_

_Not nearly my love, not nearly…_

_-Fiona Apple_

_As soon as I get my head round you  
I come around catching sparks off you  
I get an electric charge from you  
That second hand living it just won't do_

-_The Jesus and Mary Chain_

It was 5:34 am when Jane's eyes snapped open. Awareness came instantly. The residual grogginess that usually haunted him after a broken and chaotic sleep was absent. He remembered this kind of well rested alertness from the days when blood and revenge didn't torment his nights, and he savored its reappearance in his life.

He marveled that such levels of clarity were possible so early in the morning. Jane felt that if he was so inclined acing several standardized tests while running a marathon would be a cake walk. Right now he could write in the 98th percentile on the MCAT while blowing past a Kenyan in the final lap. Capable isn't the same as inclined however, and even if Jane was given the opportunity to perform either feat he would've declined. Participating in track and field while answering questions about the physical sciences would require leaving Lisbon's bed, and he had no plans to do that any time soon.

Well, no that was a lie. He'd need to get up and use the bathroom in a few seconds, and while the MCAT might not be too much of a stretch for Jane, the marathon bit was totally out of the question. He knew he was just experiencing the same stirrings of invincibility and euphoria that every man feels after a sexual conquest.

Speaking of conquests where was his? Jane peered right, then left, and found Lisbon lying on her stomach next to him. Was it his imagination or did she look less come hitherish than she did when he last saw her? He was sure she'd been naked, sex tousled and en route to ice cream when he'd fallen asleep. The woman next to him was fully clothed in red pajamas with little Santas all over them, hair coiled in a loose bun, and her mouth wide open in sleep. The mouth thing; he'd have to work harder on convincing her to wear those little nose band aids, it just wasn't good for her sinuses or her sleep.

The fact Lisbon was no longer naked perturbed Jane more than her mouth breathing and he resolved to rectify the situation once he'd answered nature's call. Jane got up from the bed and ambled, in all his naked glory, to the bathroom. He whistled quietly to himself, and not for the first time in his life, wished those tiny woodland creatures from Disney films existed in real life. If they could walk amongst us non-animated folk, a bunch of adorable birds, rabbits and mice would no doubt be surrounding him right now, chirping and squeaking along to his personal tune.

Jane took one look at the shit eating grin spread across his reflection in the bathroom mirror and decided it was probably best the celluloid critters weren't around. From what he could remember of _Bambi_ and _Cinderella_, after watching both multiple times with his daughter, Thumper and the mice who made their heroine a dress had very G rated takes on the world.

Jane had no trouble imagining Thumper's delight with his whistling and new found happiness;

"_Golly, gee whiz Mr. Jane, you sure do seem happy. What's put the sunshine in your smile today?"_

But, he had a feeling his response would cause the poor bunny to balk.

"Well Thumper," he said out loud into the mirror, but not loud enough to wake Lisbon. "Guess who's got two thumbs and just nailed Senior Agent Teresa Lisbon?"

The imaginary and flustered Thumper had already left the room when Jane gave himself a double thumbs up and said, "This guy!"

Jane knew he was being immature but it only made him grin harder. He quickly relieved himself and returned to the sink to wash his hands. The huge, I-Just-Got-Some smile was still on his face. This was problematic. He'd need to gain control over himself before showing up at the office. Rigsby would know what this smile meant, hell even Grace, naïve, innocent, little Grace would take one look at him and be able to discern how he'd spent the night. If the two junior agents could figure it out then Cho certainly would. He hoped Lisbon didn't have a "Getting Some" face as well, because then Cho would also have no trouble determining who the lady on the receiving end of Jane's affections had been.

Jane's eyes widened in terror momentarily and his reflected complexion went pale. Cho would kill him. Or at the very least beat him within an inch of his life for doing very bad things to Teresa Lisbon. The damn smile was back, _"That's right you handsome devil, you did very bad things to Teresa Lisbon"_.

Technically though, now that he thought on it, Jane had to admit it was Lisbon who did most of the work, and the very bad things. Flashes of the X-rated show she'd put on for him just prior to their love-making danced through his head, and Jane decided it was time to level the playing field. If he was destined to be thrashed mercilessly by Cho then it was high time he committed transgressions that warranted such punishment.

Jane crept from the bathroom to the edge of Lisbon's bed and began assessing how best to create a situation in which she was naked, yet undisturbed by his actions. He wanted to awaken her slowly and more than a little erotically. In order to do this he'd need to start with the buttons on those damn pajamas. Now if he could just coax Lisbon into rolling over without bringing her out of the deep sleep she was currently enjoying.

He rounded the bed and slipped back in behind his own personal Sleeping Beauty. Nimble fingers crept up Lisbon's pajama top and tickled her spine. Jane leaned over and blew softly on the back of her neck. Lisbon, reluctant to leave her cozy dream world, huffed and reacted, as he'd intended, like an annoying insect was threatening to ruin her time. She grunted, and then made a noise that sounded almost like a garbled refusal before rolling onto her back to swat at the disturbance just beyond her consciousness.

"I know, I know," Jane murmured while undoing several buttons in quick succession before slipping a hand under her top to palm a sleep warmed breast. "You're not a morning person. But, trust me, things will improve."

_As soon as I get my head round you  
I come around catching sparks off you  
I get an electric charge from you  
That second hand living it just won't do_

_And there's something going on inside  
Makes you want to feel, makes you want to try  
Makes you want to blow the stars from the sky_

* * *

Lisbon's sleep was deep and black. There were no dreams or nightmares, no unconscious compression of data at all, just blissful restoration. But its grip was loosening and something was buzzing on the periphery of her consciousness, pulling her upwards towards the waking world. She battled against it and dove for the depths once again, but couldn't quite reach the bottom.

REM had been disrupted and there was no getting it back quickly. Instead she had to be content with floating between here and there. Her mind was not yet fully alert, but it was processing tactile sensations.

There were hands, warm hands, moving up her ribcage, cupping her breasts. Insistent lips were dotting kisses in the middle of her chest, plotting a wet trail from her clavicle to her neck. The ghostly lips reached the shell of her left ear and then pulled away to press a gentle kiss on her mouth. She'd grown accustomed to dreams like this since Jane had made his first overture to try. They'd become more frequent in the wake of his physical limitations, an early morning reminder of their shared sexual frustration.

_I lie in an early bed thinking late thoughts  
Waiting for the black to replace my blue  
I do not struggle in your web because it was my aim to get caught  
But daddy longlegs, I feel that I'm finally growing weary  
Of waiting to be consumed by you_

If she couldn't have the real thing Lisbon didn't see any reason why she shouldn't yield to her ephemeral lover now. She parted her pajama clad legs and pushed her hips up expecting to feel nothing more than the remembered pressure of a man's weight on top of her, certainly not the real thing. But the body she writhed beneath seemed surprisingly solid and when she pushed her hands into the curls tickling her nose the scalp underneath was warm and real.

_Give me the first taste  
Let it begin, heaven cannot wait forever_

That meant Jane was really in her bed and really on top of her. She cracked open her right eye to ensure she was not in fact imagining that she was imagining Jane. The only thing she could see was a mass of blond curls under her nose and Lisbon smiled as memories of the night before washed over her.

"Pat-trick?" she asked in a sleepy, child like manner.

"Morning my dear," Jane rumbled into her neck and tightened his hold on her chest in response to her voice. He loved that lost little girl voice, and he only got to hear it whenever she was in the throes of passion or psyching out quack shrinks who were trying to frame her for murder.

She turned her head and placed a kiss on his forehead. "Hmmm, you know some women might object to a man taking liberties with their person while they slept."

"Taking liberties with your person?" Jane mumbled and matched her kiss with another quick peck to her neck. "Someone's been reading Austen on that damn contraption again."

Lisbon laughed and kissed his face again. "Someone bought me that contraption."

"Trust me when I say that someone often regrets his generosity," he said and kissed her shoulder.

Lisbon's only response was to kiss him on the chest and Jane promptly repaid the favor. Their bantering died down to be replaced by a new, innocent yet arousing form of foreplay. It involved smiling like two fools in love, and taking turns placing chaste kisses all over each other. The only rules seemed to be, no talking, no tongue and strict avoidance of their mutual naughty bits and mouths. It was, Lisbon later mused, perhaps the most-light hearted moment she'd ever shared with Jane, if you didn't count the time they'd watched Cho and Rigsby puke in some trash cans outside an In-N-Out Burger in Modesto after the two men had decided to have an eating competition. Lisbon figured the moment she and Jane were currently sharing counted more because unlike the In-N-Out incident they weren't hunting a child murderer, there was no vomit involved and Grace wasn't doubled over in laughter beside them.

Jane enjoyed their little game, but he was also starting to get equal parts restless, and hard. The night before had displaced some of his nagging guilt and fear, but the urge to cut and run back to the shelter of the attic, and the pursuit of Red John, was still there lurking in the back of his mind even as the blood from his brain drained downwards chasing its own desires for the woman beneath him. His blood already accepted what his rational mind was still struggling with; that there was only one cure for his obsession with vengeance, and it was Lisbon, or rather what she represented.

He thought of May and her talk of genetic studies, the proof we all need to feel connected to the collective on a cellular level, and he knew similar factors were at work here and now. The figurative Jane could be as apprehensive to act as a philosopher, but the literal Jane, the body with no awareness of its own name, made up of the same evolutionary byproducts as everyone else on Earth was thrumming with the want, and the need, to survive by any means necessary. Right now his body knew the necessary means was copulation and so Jane's world, and awareness, shrank to include only Lisbon and more specifically the promise that lay between her legs. There was no room left for Red John or Jane's memories as Lisbon's center became the center of his universe.

_And the world could die in pain  
And I wouldn't feel no shame  
And there's nothing holding me to blame  
Makes you want to feel makes you want to try  
Makes you want to blow the stars from the sky_

Jane decided the time for games was over and his next kiss landed firmly on Lisbon's mouth and it was anything but chaste. They tangled themselves up in a heap of limbs and passionate kisses until Jane pulled himself up onto his knees before dragging Lisbon against his chest so he could tear the pajama top from her shoulders. He latched onto one her breasts before lowering her down again onto her back. Her nipple slipped from his lips with a loud pop as he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of her drawstring pants. The pants and her underwear met the same quick fate and were tossed over his shoulder to the floor below.

He planted a hand on either side of Lisbon's hips and lowered his face to her waist pausing just long enough to ask, "May I?"

"Always," she replied with a smirk.

"Careful, careful Lisbon, you make a promise like that and you never know where and when I'll decide to take you up on it," Jane said and Lisbon was almost positive he was salivating.

She spread her legs a little further. "Double dog dare you to."

_Give me the first taste  
Let it begin, heaven cannot wait forever_

_Darling just start the chase  
I'll let you win, but you must make the endeavor_

It was all the encouragement he needed, and Jane bent his head to her core and gave her one long, leisurely lick before pulling away to scoot down the end of the bed and onto the floor. Lisbon might have pouted at the loss of his mouth if she hadn't known what was coming next. She'd learned early on in their relationship that Jane was the kind of man who seriously enjoyed going down on the woman he loved, and he preferred to have ample maneuvering room to work with. He knelt at the end of bed, with his chest pressed against the edge of mattress, and reached out for her ankles. Lisbon wanted to squeal with anticipation as his hands wrapped around her legs, but she wasn't about to give Jane that kind of satisfaction. He pulled her down the bed until she was sitting right in front of him, crotch parallel with his face and her legs dangling over his shoulders.

Lisbon gripped the edge of bed with both hands and ran the heels of her feet up and down his back. "So now what?" she asked with mock innocence.

Jane cocked his head to one side and wet his lips. "Now I'm going to make you scream," he said frankly before diving in to make good on his promise.

Lisbon's hold on the bed increased ten fold, while Jane's left hand settled on her lower back to keep her in position. His right hand joined his tongue in the effort to bring her as much pleasure as possible.

Lisbon battled with the urge to noisily voice her approval of his actions, until his free hand left her lower back and travelled towards the floor. She watched its slow progression to Jane's lap and when he began pumping himself in time with the fingers moving slowly in and out of her core she gave up and let out a low moan. The fact he was so turned on by performing this act heightened the experience exponentially for Lisbon and she relinquished her hold on the bed and lay back to enjoy it fully.

Jane watched as Lisbon arched her back and stretched her arms out above her head before settling them against her sides. She was amazing to behold when she was lost in the moment like this and the need to be connected to her fully was getting overwhelming. He knew she was near the edge, because she was using his Christian name and begging him not to stop. Lisbon had to be pretty far gone to unabashedly beg for him for anything while calling him something other then Jane or "Nuisance".

He loved every single one of the sounds she was making, and he wanted nothing more than to see her reach completion, but Jane was getting worried that he might come undone with her. So, with much regret he tore his mouth from her center and climbed onto the bed. Lisbon let out a bereaved keen that made his ego swell, and Jane stored this little moment away in his mind in order remind her of it the next time she was threatening his head with a stapler.

"What? Jane is something wrong? You stopped!"

"I know, I know, I'm sorry. I didn't want to. I know you're close Teresa, but so am I and I don't want to not be inside you when that happens."

Lust was replaced by realization and Lisbon's eyes widened. "Oh, okay, yeah, no, let's do this," she said, still reeling from his oral ministrations.

"Hold on," Jane said and rolled over to paw through the drawer in her nightstand. He turned back to her and his eyes were deadly serious. "We're out of condoms."

"What?" Lisbon cried. "That's impossible! We haven't even used them until now. There should be a whole box. This can't be happening!"

Lisbon wanted to kick something. "Let me look!" she said and tried to scramble over Jane.

"Wait a second Lisbon. I think, I think there's something in your ear."

"Jane who cares about my ear? We've got a serious issue here."

"Something crammed in your ear is a serious issue too Lisbon. Just let me have a look," he said and tucked her hair behind her ear. "Yup, there's definitely something in there."

Now that he mentioned it she did feel something scratchy against the shell of her ear.

"What is it?" she asked sullenly.

"I don't know I'd better pull it out," Jane said with a bit too much theatre in his voice for Lisbon's liking.

"Tada!" he cried as he pulled the offending object from her ear. He dangled a foil square in front of her face. "A condom!"

Lisbon restrained herself from punching him in the face, but only just barely.

"Jane did you just lie to me about the lack of condoms so that you could pull off a magic trick?"

Thunder clouds amassed behind her eyes and Jane hurried to explain. "I did, but in my defense I just needed some time to you know, calm down a little, and I was hoping this little show would distract you from that fact."

Her eyes immediately softened. "Oh Jane, that's kind of sweet actually. Here," she said and plucked the condom from his grasp. "Let me get that on you."

Jane waited until Lisbon had secured the condom and then he pushed her back onto the mattress and kissed her deeply. His hand wandered back to her center.

"Sorry I interrupted your good time," he mumbled into her mouth and slid two fingers into her wet heat. "I promise to make it up to you," his thumb rubbed at her throbbing clit, "okay?"

"Kay," she breathed out the single symbol while wrapping her arms around his neck and thrusting against his hand.

They remained like this for several moments until Jane couldn't stand to not be inside her a moment longer and asked, "How are we doing this? You on top again?"

Lisbon was so lost in the sensations his hand was creating that it took her several beats to understand the question, but once she did her answer was immediate and visceral, "No…I want you…I want you on top…I just want you to…"

She didn't know how to articulate to him, without risking hurting his feelings that she'd been longing for the weight of him on top of her since the first time they tried to make love. She'd worked hard to show Jane a sympathetic face, and to reassure him that she'd wait as long as it took for him to be comfortable with their intimacy. But lately, the frustration and wait were starting to make her crazy, and she was afraid that if she tried to explain this to him, she'd wind up screaming a monologue by her least favorite Sex and the City character, Charlotte York;

_Dammit-I just really wanna be fucked, you know? Just really fucked!_

"You want me to what?" he asked and sped up his hand.

"Fuck me Jane!"

"Ask me nicely."

"Please fuck me, _Patrick_," she ground out.

He pulled his hand from her depths and positioned himself between her legs. Lisbon wrapped her legs around his waist, but Jane resisted her effort to get him where they both wanted him to be.

"Jane," she whined and thrust her hips up at him.

He used his hands to press her down into the bed. "I wanna try something Lisbon. I promise you'll like it, but there are a few rules."

"Jane I swear to God if you don't get inside me right now I won't be held responsible for my actions."

"Now, now Lisbon, hear me out. I didn't say anything about not getting inside you," he said and punctuated his statement by thrusting into her heat. It took every bit of resolve he possessed not to take her roughly then and there, but he continued to pin her to the bed with his hips and hands. "Here's what's going to happen-

"Jane, please stop talking," she begged. The feel of him buried to the hilt was too much to bear.

"I will, we both will, but first I need you to look at me. Look me in the eye Teresa."

She complied hoping it would move things along faster.

"Good," Jane said. "Now, I'm going to take a deep breath in, and when I let it out I want you to breathe in. Take my breath in with yours. Then let it out and give it back to me. Do you understand?"

"Sort of, but what's the point of all this Jane?"

"You'll see, just trust me."

She rolled her eyes. It wasn't like she could go anywhere anyway. "Alright."

Jane smiled and placed a hand on either side of her face. He lowered his mouth to hers and took a long breath in and then let it out. Lisbon opened her mouth and repeated his actions. It was strange at first, but gradually she found herself drawn into his gaze. She thought about the night before and how much he had opened up to her and the connection between their bodies began to feel not just pleasurable but profound.

They continued to breathe in and out, never once breaking their staring match. Lisbon let her hands dance up Jane's ribcage until one hand came to rest his shoulder while the other sought out a companion. Jane clasped her lonesome hand in his own and together they fought the urge to give up on this beautiful exercise too soon, but his breathing was starting to get short and Lisbon's legs were shaking from want.

Neither was sure how long they remained suspended together or who moved first, but at some point Jane buried his head in Lisbon's neck, and she scratched her nails down his back; then it was all over.

Jane growled Lisbon's name from somewhere low in his throat and began thrusting into her at a steady, pounding pace. Lisbon planted her feet on the bed for leverage and clawed at his back while meeting him stroke for stroke. She was dimly aware that they were both sweating, the bed was shaking and if she wasn't careful her head would be banging off the headboard-finally! The last part worried her slightly, because she'd experienced coitus interruptus so many times that morning a concussion messing with her orgasm wouldn't be surprising. It would be devastating, but not surprising.

Lisbon's safety concerns dissipated instantly when Jane threw her right over his shoulder so he could wedge a hand between them. His thumb found her clit again, and his mouth was still fused to her neck as he continued to rock into her with same even, yet maddening, thrusts. Lisbon pressed her forehead to his shoulder when she felt his thumb quicken. Familiar tingling sensations started in her thighs and belly before rushing to meet at her core. Seconds later her toes curled and she bit down on Jane's shoulder as her orgasm crested. The exquisite feel of Lisbon's internal muscles clamping around him and the pain of her bite caught Jane unaware and tumbled him over the edge with her.

_And the way I feel tonight  
I could die and I wouldn't mind  
And there's something going on inside  
Makes you want to feel makes you want to try  
Makes you want to blow the stars from the sky  
I can't stand up I can't cool down  
I can't get my head off the ground_

_Oh, your love gives me a heart contusion  
Adagio breezes fill my skin with sudden red  
Your hungry flirt borders intrusion  
And I'm building memories on things we have not said_

_Full is not heavy as empty, not nearly my love  
Not nearly my love, not nearly…_

They stayed pressed together for several moments; both working to catch their breath, before Jane finally propped himself up by the elbows.

"Sorry, I'm squatting you-

Lisbon put her arms around him and tugged lightly. "No, that's okay. This is nice."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Okay," Jane said, lowering his body slightly, but still mindful of causing her any discomfort. "Stillness works for me."

"Hmmm," Lisbon hummed in agreement. "Let's just stay like this for a bit and-

Whatever Lisbon was going to say next was cut of by the sound of her radio alarm clock blaring through the bedroom.

"_Gooooood Moooorning Sacramento! It's 6:30am and you're listening to KYMX, Dave and Marilyn in the morning!"_

"Damn you Dave and Marilyn," Jane groaned. "Really Lisbon? KYMX? Soft Rock?"

Lisbon shrugged and motioned to Jane that despite her previous ploys to get him inside of her, it was now time to get out. "I know Jane, I know," she said as he extricated his body from hers. "The only radio you deem worthy of your time and ears is NPR, or in a pinch KFBK because apparently gypsies like you are not only bad at computers, but also still think AM is the latest craze-

"Hey the proper term is carny folk and I'll accept travelers as well."

"Whatever, the point is if there's some Michael Bolton playing when I wake up-chances are I'm getting out of bed ASAP to turn it off. My choice is purely pragmatic."

"Understood. How about we continue to err on the side of pragmatism and share the shower? It saves time and water, so it's good for the environment and punctuality. Plus, there's the naked, soapy bodies pressed together factor…" Jane trailed off and waited for Lisbon's decision.

"Fine, but I want you to know that I'm only doing this sharing a shower thing because it's good for the environment. It has absolutely nothing to do with the naked, soapy bodies part."

"Says the woman who just half an hour ago threatened me with physical violence if I didn't perform sexually."

"I'm about to threaten you with physical violence for an entirely different reason…"

Jane laughed and dragged Lisbon up from the bed. He surprised her by throwing her over his shoulder. Usually she was the one throwing her weight around and carrying him all manner of places.

Lisbon often forgot that Jane's lack of physicality had nothing to do with being incapable, and was mostly all about laziness, or as he would put it, conservation. You never know when one might need to beat a hasty escape, so why waste the useful energy on impertinent displays of strength? Still, he liked to remind her once in awhile that despite his willingness to play the brains of the operation to her muscle, he was still, by virtue of biology alone more than able to sweep her off her feet. Provided she in no way anticipated the endeavor, because otherwise she had him licked in that whole hand to hand combat nonsense.

"To the shower!" Jane bellowed while carrying Lisbon like a sack of potatoes from the bedroom. She squirmed and cursed at him the whole way, so Jane made a valiant effort to resist slapping her on the ass just to rub in the fact he'd bested her.

* * *

Lisbon didn't actually mind being slung over Jane's shoulders as much as she let on. It was nice, she thought to herself, as he sat her back down on her feet in the bathroom and went to turn on the shower, to see him behaving not so Jane-ish and more like the man she thought Patrick used to be when he was somebody's husband.

What wasn't nice to see was the tell-tale purplish bruise on her clavicle that caught her eye briefly in the bathroom mirror. Lisbon's eyes widened and she jumped back in front of the sink to do a double take.

"Jane!"

Her alarm sounded so acute he turned around expecting to see someone holding her at gunpoint or the hallway being engulfed in flames. "What?"

"My neck!" she cried. "Look at my neck!"

Lisbon was pointing at the place where her neck and shoulder met. Her slim index finger was poking at a wine colored stain that looked suspiciously like his mouth would fit neatly over it. Jane knew exactly how the offending mark had gotten there, but he felt it best not to be overly-confessional with Lisbon right now. He chose to match her hysteria with mild confusion.

"It, um, looks like you have a bruise," he ventured.

Lisbon looked at him like he's just exited the short bus. "A bruise!" she said incredulously. "Jane I have a hickey! A hickey -I might add- that you gave me!"

He had the decency to look sheepish before replying, "Yeah, I think somewhere after the deep breathing exercise and before that spectacular finish I latched onto your neck. I'm really sorry Lisbon, but look at my shoulder. You bit me…so really we're kind of even."

"Even? Jane you can easily hide that! I have a huge, visible hickey!"

"Okay, first of all it's three, maybe four centimeters in diameter tops. Second, you for some inexplicable reason own any number of mock turtle necks despite being a resident of California. And, it's winter! You've worn them in warmer seasons much to my confusion, so now you've got the perfect excuse."

"I can't wear a turtleneck," she countered. "You know what will happen."

"Well, yes, Cho will make fun of you, but then, he is correct that if you wear a mock turtleneck you deserve to be mocked. Still, better he rags on your wardrobe choice than notices your love bite."

Lisbon pressed a face cloth she'd been running under cold water to her neck. "If you ever call it a love bite again, I will give you your own bruises to show off."

She threw the cloth down with disgust. "This isn't going to work," she said and turned to look at Jane. "Seriously, what are we going to do? Don't you get it? If someone sees this Jane we're in trouble. I guess no one has to assume you're responsible, but what if they do?"

Jane turned the shower off and crossed the room to hug Lisbon. "We'll think of something. I promise, and it won't involve turtlenecks."

Lisbon nodded her agreement into his shoulder. Then she peered up with at him with devilish eyes. "I could always imply Walter did it," she said, more to get a reaction out of Jane for bruising her than to seriously suggest the idea.

Jane's body tensed ever so slightly to Lisbon's delight. "Walter's in Europe," he spat out.

"Maybe he came back for Christmas…" she mused and watched Jane's mouth compress into a thin line. She's learned over the years that while he could make his face blank from emotion, the tight line of his lips would always give him away, but only to her of course.

"I'm just teasing Jane," she said. "I guess I'll just have to wear the mock neck and get mocked."

Jane's lips swelled into smile again. "Not on your life. C'mon Lisbon, you know I've got style in spades. I'll find a way to dress you up so as not to provoke Cho's wrath. Deal?"

"Deal," she agreed. "But first, how about that shower? I was promised some environmentally sustainable, hot, soapy fun."

* * *

"Et Voila!" Jane cried and stepped away from Lisbon so she could see the final product of his styling in her bedroom mirror.

Lisbon cocked her head to one side and took in her reflection. She was wearing her usual jeans and t-shirt combination, though the black denim was of the skinny variety, something she wouldn't usually wear to work, but she suspected Jane liked to see her behind in. Her white t-shirt was complimented by a slouchy, grey blazer the young sales clerk at JCrew had told her was, "Boyfriend style, you know like your boyfriend owns it, but like, more tailored and stuff for you", and a black and white scarf Van Pelt had given her two Christmases ago that she'd never worn. The scarf was the part she was unsure about.

"I don't know Jane," she said and turned back and forth in the mirror. "I'm not a scarf person. Doesn't this scream I have a hickey I'm trying to hide?"

"No, it screams today I woke up with much better style than I had yesterday. Though, that in and of itself may present a problem. No one's going to believe you put this outfit together, and naturally the suspicion will fall on me," he replied. "Because let's face it I'm the only person in your immediate circle who knows how to dress properly."

"Jane, please be serious for a moment. Can this actually work?" she asked. "Can I pull off a scarf?"

"Absolutely Lisbon. You look great, very Left Bank Parisian. And, if anyone gives you flack say you found it in your closet and felt bad about never utilizing Van Pelt's gift. People may not believe you're a scarf person, but they will believe you're nice enough to worry about Grace's feelings."

"Okay, fine," she conceded. "We have to get to work. We're definitely stopping at Marie's. This is a two bear claws kind of situation."

Jane leered at her. "Worked up an appetite this morning did you Agent Lisbon?"

"Shut up and get in the car."

* * *

Lisbon tried to act as nonchalant as possible when she walked into the bull pen with a box of donuts from Marie's. She'd dropped Jane off a block from headquarters before doubling back to the donut shop, and he was now lolling on his battered couch pretending to ignore the rest of the team as usual. He cracked one eye open as Lisbon placed the box of treats on Grace's desk, and waited to see if there would be any reaction to her presence, or her ensemble.

Initially the only response she got was from Rigsby, who of course was overjoyed to see the donuts. "Thanks boss!" he cried while stuffing a lemon filled pastry in his mouth.

"No problem," Lisbon replied. "Grace? You want the fritter? I got it for you."

"Sure thing I," Grace's reply was cut short when her eyes alighted on Lisbon's neck. "You're wearing it!"

"Wearing what?" Rigsby asked through a mouthful of donut.

Jane remained motionless on the couch, his eyes still closed, but a faint trace of a smile played on his lips.

"The scarf I gave her for Christmas my first year here!" Grace explained excitedly. "I was starting to think you hated it!"

Lisbon tried to sound enthusiastic. "Nope, just you know, had to figure out how to put an outfit together around it, and um, I just bought the blazer and I think they go. They go right?"

"Totally!" Grace concurred.

Cho rolled his eyes, stood up from his desk and grabbed a folder. He walked towards the box of donuts and pulled out a honey cruller. "If we're done discussing the latest in women's fashions the AG sent a case down for us to review," he said while holding up the folder.

Lisbon immediately became all business. "Right, sure, give us the details Cho."

Cho flipped open the folder with one hand while cradling his donut in the other. "Looks like a standard OD, but the vic is a prominent judge's kid with a ton of priors for possession, robbery, a little sexual aggression with the ladies, all that good stuff. So, of course Your Honor doesn't want to believe his kid's a useless pile of shit that died accidentally with a needle in his arm, which means we get to pretend to investigate his death further. I'm thinking Rigsby and Van Pelt can go confirm with the Coroner and pick up the pathology report. Then you and Jane can take it out to the judge's house and let Jane break it down for him."

"Why do I have to go?" Jane asked from the couch.

"Because Cho's right," Lisbon said. "You'll pick out something in the house that will get you started on the kid's relationship with his father, or something like that and by the end of your overwrought soliloquy the judge will realize that the pathology report is correct, and that unfortunately his son was an addict with a temper."

Lisbon turned back to Cho. "And what are you planning to do while we're all out running around putting out this fire?"

"I was going to finish the paperwork on the Ripple case so we can file it, and be done with it," Cho replied and took a bite of his cruller.

"You were going to do the paperwork?" Lisbon asked. "What may I ask are you going to do now, if you aren't planning on doing that?"

"Oh, I'm going to do the paperwork," Cho said and finished the last of his donut. "But, first I have to go home and pick up a few things."

Lisbon made a confused face, and Rigsby asked what everyone else was thinking, "Um, like what?"

"Well, no one told me we were going to be starting an Intifada in the office today," Cho said, and motioned at Lisbon's scarf, causing Jane to laugh out loud. "I wouldn't want to be caught up in that without my sling shot and rocks."

_TBC…the next chapter will be the last, and we will get back to our regularly schedules reality based angst, and May will return! _


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: You know I've been in law school for a whole semester now and I'm not entirely sure what the need for these things are. But then I'm not studying American common law. Still, is it needed, or are we all doing it because we saw everyone else doing it? Either way, nothing related to The Mentalist is mine and I'm making no money from this, and I don't think I could possibly be causing trade mark confusion, so yeah…

I expect whoever answers my query from above to cite the relevant case law and policy considerations (kidding!).

A/N: So, obviously I'm in law school (insert joke about the road to hell being paved with dead lawyers). And it's eating up 90% of my time. The other 10% I spend sleeping and crying quietly in the shower.

I am still going to finish El Scorcho, World Your Rock and Conversion, but it won't happen till Christmas break and thereafter. Thanks for your patience. Exams are looming and they have to be my priority.

In the meantime I encourage anyone who reads my stuff regularly –and has toyed with idea of writing a fanfic-to write something for this site. There's nothing I like more than spending the 15 mins I allot myself before bedtime to reading some brand new stories on this site from new authors. Come on, enliven my currently time constrained and overwhelmed existence.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I own nothing related to _The Mentalist_, and I'm really not certain a disclaimer is needed for an author's note but as a dutiful law student I shall conform.

A/N: Hello Readers! For some reason I'm getting lots of alerts tonight that ya'll are out there adding me to your favourite author/story lists and signing up for update alerts despite my slackness at posting anything new. So, I feel I should thank you, and promise you this; I finish school at the end of this month, so new stuff for _El Scorcho_, _Conversion _and _World Your Rock_ will be up by mid May. Most likely _El Scorcho _first cause I've been planning it more in my head between study sessions.

I haven't actually had the time to watch the past season of _The Mentalist_ so I'll be catching up in May. To that end, I can't really write anything current so I'm going to start a new story come June that doesn't need to heed timelines. It's going to be called, "The Three Times Patrick Jane Met Someone Smarter Than Him and The One Time He Didn't (But Did)". Maybe. It depends on how many words FF Net will let me jam into a title.

Preview (Please turn off your cell phones and other electronic devices now so you don't disturb the other moviegoers):

Chapter 1: House MD-remake of the first episode of House in which Robin Tunney ate some bad pork. Jane will eat the unclean meant this time and House will impart the kind of Houseian advice to Jane that makes every patient the salty doctor treats rethink their lives.

Chapter 2: The Big Bang Theory-A secret, test version, government laser goes missing from California Tech. The CBI is sent to investigate. Jane encounters the phenomena that is Dr. Sheldon Cooper

Chapter 3: Sherlock- Now that Sherlock Holmes has successfully faked his own death he needs to find Moriarty's henchmen and eliminate them. Jane is about to find out there's always a bigger fish in the sea. Red John may not have friends-just tools-but even Red John answers to Moriarty in the end. Sherlock has made the connection, and in disguise, and on the run he shows up in Sacramento determined to take Jane's life mission away. *

Chapter 4: Dr. Who-maybe…if I can figure out a way to make it work. The Doctor is hard to write…not for the faint of heart. And it would be the one time Jane did but didn't meet someone smarter than him because there's no way The Doctor could allow him to remember the encounter. You can't offer the chance to time travel to a man who would love to undo his past mistakes.

* If you are watching _The Mentalist_ you need to be watching BBC's _Sherlock_. I love _TM_, but _Sherlock_ blows American TV out of the water. Sorry…it does and I'm not even British so I'm not biased on this. Also, _Elementary_ is a bad idea. No CBS, no!


End file.
